Long, Long Way From Home
by Lumora The White
Summary: Her father FBI Agent James Elliott is killed by a demon, her mother Detective Karen Elliott SFPD now resides in Sioux Falls Sanitarium. Come along for the ride as Christine Elliott, now ward of Bobby Singer, discovers the true heroes her parents really are. [Dean W., OC] Part One of 'The Family Business' saga.
1. Hells Bells: A Well Respected Man

Long, Long Way From Home

Bobby Singer, [Dean Winchester, OC], Sam Winchester

**Disclaimer: Kripke and his entourage own Supernatural and subsequent world. I only play in it. I own OC and new plot additives. **

Prequel: Hells Bells

Christine Elliott grew up in Sioux Falls, South Dakota like any other midwestern American kid. Her parents, Karen and James worked government jobs, her Dad was an FBI agent, and Mom worked at the local police department. The biggest difference was the day their neighbor she fondly referred to as "Uncle" Bobby Singer (she stayed with him a lot because of her parents day jobs) sat her down and told her that her father had been killed while catching a serial killer. Her mother was beside herself with grief, especially since the serial killer had sent letters and flowers to the house prior to his capture and incarceration. Karen didn't recover after her husbands death and was taken off the police force entirely. She continued to spiral, and eventually ended up being admitted to the local sanitarium.

Christine went to stay with Uncle Bobby as he was listed as next of kin for the girl in the event of her parent's absence. Bobby Singer wasn't surprised the girl was so calm. She accepted the news with a brief nod and a few tears, but no outbursts or heartbreaking displays of grief. All she said in her trembly nine year old voice was, "They caught the son of a bitch. That's what really matters." Bobby didn't have the heart to tell her that the serial killer was really a man who had been possessed by a demon. That was why her mother had gone insane. James lost his life, and the demon was sent back to hell via Rufus and Bobby. Karen was convinced that the demon would come back for them one day.

James and Karen Elliott were hunters but they wanted to keep Christine innocent as long as possible. Their day jobs were actually real, though their knowledge of the supernatural proved to be quite the complement. Bobby used discretion in what books he allowed the girl to read and leaf through during her stays at his house. He posed as a college professor, to account for the mountain of books. He also told her he consulted for the government on bizarre cases, keeping up the ruse by linking himself to her parents. It also helped to explain the various phone lines and phone calls he received on a daily basis. He always said he'd never have kids. Life sure has a funny way of proving you wrong.

* * *

Chapter One: A Well Respected Man

Hushed heated voices roused Christine Elliott from her warm bed. Rubbing her bleary eyes, she padded across the well worn floor boards of her bedroom. The door sat slightly ajar, a single beam of light piercing the darkness as she wrapped her fingers around the knob and slowly pulled it open. The wall sconces, set to a ghostly dim cast shadows up and down the heavily papered walls. Silently she made her way down the hall to the top of the stairs. The voices were still intelligible, but she could distinctly hear it was Uncle Bobby and Dean Winchester exchanging words. Five years had passed since her father's death and her mother's breakdown. Five years, along with her previous sporadic stays, allowed her to navigate the staircase with cat like grace.

Muted light spilled over from the slightly open kitchen door into the freezing foyer. Christine halted at the bottom of the staircase, her breath coming in small puffs before her as the sound of a fist slamming down on the eat-in kitchen's table reached her ears. Finally she could make out words.

"Dammit Dean!" Uncle Bobby exclaimed in an exasperated whisper.

"What?" Dean whispered back incredulously.

"Christine is innocent! You can't tell her nothing." Uncle Bobby sounded like he did when she caught him impersonating an FBI agent on the phone last week.

Christine inched closer to the door. "Sam knows, why can't she?" Dean protested. She imagined him crossing his arms, legs spread apart, chin lifting in defiance.

"You know why Dean." Bobby sounded tired. She glanced up at the cuckoo clock hung by the stairs. She had basically begged Uncle Bobby to buy it at a local garage sale last summer. 3:00AM. Mr. Winchester must have been called away in the middle of the night again.

"Christine is smart, she can shoot straight, and she fights-" Christine could feel her chest swell with pride. She was an excellent shot.

"You idjit!" Uncle Bobby exclaimed, barely catching himself to control his volume. Christine reached the door in time to see the older man swat at the younger one's head. "What did I tell you-"

Dean rolled his eyes, stepping just out of reach and slumped against the counter. "You told me not to teach her to shoot or fight but-"

"But nothing boy." Uncle Bobby placed a hand on Dean's shoulder, shaking him slightly, "We are honoring her folks wishes. The supernatural world isn't a place for that sweet innocent girl, she's just a child for Christ's sake."

"I'm almost fifteen!" A cry came from behind the kitchen door towards the stairs. Christine hardly realized it was her own voice save for Dean's smirk now revealed by Uncle Bobby swinging the door open to see her standing in the foyer. Dean pushed off the counter, coming towards Uncle Bobby and the doorway.

"Christine!" Bobby exclaimed, no longer worried about his volume. "I thought you were in bed hours ago."

"Guess I'm not," She quipped with a smile for Dean who rewarded her with a wink. "I think if little Sammy knows, I should know. What's the big deal?" She asked as Dean came to stand beside her.

"Yeah, What's the big deal?" That's Dean, always coming to her defense. The two of them could get into an insane amount of trouble in an insanely short amount of time.

Bobby eyed Dean and the way he was standing a little to close to the girl for his liking. "Dean, bed." Dean started to protest, "Now." Dean dropped his gaze to the floor and shuffled by Christine, mumbling a 'goodnight' through his clenched teeth. Christine knew he would be waiting for her when she got upstairs.

"Balls!" Bobby exclaimed under his breath. He wasn't going to be able to weasel his way out of this one. For a few years now Sam had known the truth of what killed his mother and what his father did. It was only a matter of time before Sam figured out that Christine's father died as a result of demon attack. Bobby motioned for Christine to sit down at the kitchen table, obviously this was going to be a longer conversation then he had planned to have with Dean. With careful ease Bobby set a kettle to boil on the stove and disappeared through the doorway to the library. Christine slumped into a chair facing the window over the sink. She could hear him shuffling through some papers and a few heavy thuds indicated he was moving the heavy tombs on the oversized desk. After a few minutes, he returned, setting what looked like an extremely dusty shoe box on the table. Before he could speak, the kettle began to whistle quietly on the stove. He moved to the stove, and prepared tea in some old tin camp mugs, taking a quick sniff of each mug to make sure they were whiskey free.

* * *

**_Five Years ago_**

**_A blood curling scream rang out in the darkness. Christine's eyes flew open, and she threw back the covers. "Mom?" She called out, reaching the upstairs railing. No response. Christine continued down the staircase, stopping at the bottom to listen. Another scream broke the eery silence, this time Christine recognized the strangled sound. Rounding the corner, she found her mother lying on the kitchen floor clutching a bouquet of flowers in one hand and the phone in her other. "Christine!" Her mother choked out past her sobs. "You're father, he's…he's in trouble! Oh God!" Christine felt frozen to her spot on the linoleum. Her mother's hysteria grew, she wasn't sure what to do. Suddenly a knock sounded on the front door-_**

* * *

Christine jumped in her chair when Bobby sat the mugs down on table, she had faded into remembering the night her father died. "Sorry," She said, fidgeting in her seat, wrapping her hands around the mug for warmth.

Bobby didn't sit, instead he opened the box and pulled out a leather bound book. He stared down at it for a minute. Then with a heavy sigh, set it on the table and slid it over to her. He settled in the chair next to her, and waited for her to speak or open the journal. She took a gulp of tea, wincing as the hot liquid traveled down her throat and set the steaming mug aside. She let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding, and picked up the heavy volume in her hands. Emblazoned on the black cover in silver were the words, "The Family Business." Christine looked sideways at Bobby and squared her shoulders. She had this sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. All those fairytales and myths she loved to read were about to become all too real.

Bobby's hand covered hers as he spoke, "Your father wanted you to have this when you were old enough to handle what's inside." Christine gulped. Bobby released her hand and continued. "I've always told ya your parents were heroes kid. It's time you really knew why."

Christine opened the book and found the first page contained a letter from her father. It was addressed to her!

* * *

**_Christine,_**

**_If I am not with you when you are reading this, I am sorry I can__'__t teach you about this life myself. Bobby Singer is a great man. He will keep you safe and he will teach you all you need to know. _**

**_**Your mother and I belong** to a group of people called Hunters. We hunt and kill supernatural creatures. This includes vampires, werewolves, and yes, even demons. If we find a supernatural creature who is coexisting with humans and not harming them in any way, we __"tag" __them and check in from time to time. Most of the time the creatures need to be handled right then and there. _**

**_This journal contains __"__cases__" __that I have been on, sometimes your mother would join me or Bobby would join as well. There's a whole underground network of hunters out there. Most locations are found via GPS coordinates. Its old fashioned, but reliable. You__'__ll find us hunters are extremely old school. I__'__m sure new tech can help, but things like rock salt filled shot gun shells, holy water and spray paint are basic necessity. This book is only a drop in the bucket when it comes to all the lore and knowledge of the supernatural. _**

**_If this is too much for you, I understand. The idea that monsters are real is extremely ludicrous, although I assure you, very true. You do not have to join the life Christine. You have a choice. You can continue to live a normal life, or you can join the fight to protect our family and honor your mother and I and your grandparents before us. Hunting is really a family affair, at least for us Elliotts. I hope you choose to join the family legacy. _**

**_I__'__m proud of you, whatever you choose Chris. _**

**_Always,_**

**_Dad_**

* * *

Bobby took a sip of his tea with a grimace and watch the young girls green eyes well up with tears. Quickly brushing them away she closed the book and met his eyes with her watery ones. "Thank you for keeping this safe for me Uncle Bobby. I need to go over this when I'm not so tired. I'll see you in the morning." Christine's voice was even and sterile. He could tell she was holding back a floodgate of tears. Not wanting to embarrass her, he nodded.

"Sure thing sweetie." He rose from the table as she did, "I'll be here." As he finished his sentence Christine launched herself at the man and he enveloped her in his arms. She pulled back and he looked at her for a moment ruffling her curly blonde hair, "Idjit." He whispered with a grin. Christine gave a small smile, and smoothing her hair back in place, she disappeared up the staircase. Bobby picked up his mug from the table and with a sigh headed toward his book collection. He had studying to do.

* * *

Dean Winchester knew exactly what Christine was going through. He settled himself on the top step, just out of view of the kitchen door. Finding out monsters were real was overwhelming enough. Then to find out that your parents fight evil like some unsung superheroes was almost laughable. The new reality of it all was really hard to understand. He could hear Bobby shuffling around for something in the den, probably Mr. Elliott's journal, every hunter kept one. He heard the tea kettle begin to whistle, Christine was going to be down there for awhile. He got to his feet as quietly as he could, then continued down the hall to Christine's room. He wanted to be there for her when she returned. Bobby was always calling them the dynamic duo or saying they were like 'two peas in a pod'.

Christine's room was always so clean. It smelled of fresh linen and sunshine, just like her pretty curly blonde hair had when we leaned close to her a few moments ago. Dean liked that everything seemed to have its place, though she never got too upset at him for moving her little angel statuettes or picking up her books and leafing through them. He settled himself on her full size bed, back against the wall, elbows resting on his knees. He tipped his head back against wall just to rest his eyes. Sometimes he dreamed he had a room just like the one, where everything had its own place.

"Dean," Christine whispered after she had shut her door quietly, but loud enough for Bobby to hear she was in bed. She moved toward to her desk and switched on her lamp. Dean had passed out sitting upright in her bed. Looks like the Winchester boys had driven a long way tonight to get to Sioux Falls.

"I'm awake," Dean mumbled, trying to not seemed as startled as he felt. He rubbed his eyes and straightened a bit, patting the vacant space beside him. Still clutching her father's journal, Christine slipped off her fuzzy cheetah print slippers and climbed into bed. Dean's eyes opened and took in the sight of her. She looked very tired, then again, maybe she was just mirroring his own facade. Her green eyes swam with tears, and her lip trembled a little bit. She opened her mouth to speak, but tears just ran down her face instead. He opened his arms to her, and she buried her face into his chest. Silent sobs wracked her body and his shirt became wet with hot tears. The journal slid out from her grasp and lay open on the bed as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Dean wasn't sure how long they stayed that way, he only knew that he had this fierce need to hold and protect her.

"Its all real." She whispered into his neck. Dean took a deep breath and swallowed hard. He needed to focus on how emotional she was, not how aware he was of her closeness. He thought of how he would always find her in Bobby's den bent over some dusty book. She at least had been exposed to the lore, even if she didn't think it was real at the time.

"Yep." Dean chuckled, "Big Foot's a hoax," he grinned, earning a glare from Christine, "But, yeah. Demons, vampires, ghosts, they are all the real deal."

Christine straightened briefly to place her father's journal on her night stand. Then she settled back against Dean. His fingers played absently in her hair. She hummed in approval. "You taught me to shoot and fight because you knew it was all real." Suddenly she whipped around to face him, "How long have you known?"

Dean stared down into her wide eyes. He smoothed a few strands behind her ear, suddenly feeling the weight of what he was about to share with her. "I was four. My mom died in a nursery fire and we moved around a lot after that. My Dad took up this mantle of finding the son of a bitch that killed my mom." He took a deep breath and focused on the light of the lamp beyond her head, "I remember my mom used to cut the crusts off my PB&amp;J. I tried to act all tough, but she would do it for me anyway." He met her gaze again, "I don't know why I just told you that." He scoffed with a smirk.

"I'm glad you did." Christine whispered, "It helps me understand you, and how this world, even though full of real monsters, isn't that different from the one I've known." She barked a laugh, "I feel like I'm going insane. This can't be happening!'

Dean smiled a knowing smile. This was why he wanted to be there for her. He remembered wondering if his Dad really had just gone insane after his mom died in their house fire. He was mostly convinced by his father's conviction and his unwavering orders to protect Sammy at all cost. "What can I do to prove this is really happening?" He asked with a shy smile. He knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to kiss her. That would be a nice memory to lighten up the darkness she had just discovered.

Christine's eyes widened at his question and a blush crept up her cheeks. "Uh, well." She stammered, "Y-you could stay here until I fall asleep. I don't want to be alone right now." She thought Dean was dangerously attractive, but she knew she wasn't pretty enough for him. She saw the way he looked at Melissa, one of her classmates who lived just down the street. It didn't stop her from thinking what it would be like for him to look at her that way though.

Dean shrugged it off, "Of course." He slid off the bed so she could pull back the covers. Christine settled herself in bed while Dean tucked up the covers around her. Before he could stop himself, he leaned down and placed a soft kiss at her temple. Then he settled next to her, propped up against the headboard, letting her curl up next to him. His fingers found themselves in her soft hair again as he listened to her breathing slowly even out. He told himself he would just stay long enough to make sure she was asleep, that was a great plan until sleep came swiftly for him too.

* * *

_from the author's desk_

_Hello dear readers! Thank you so much for joining me on the journey of my first Supernatural fan fiction. First things first, the title, "Long, Long Way From Home" is based on the fantastical Foreigner track by the same namesake. The first minute of the song is absolute magic. I believe the tone, the lyrics and delivery embody Dean Winchester perfectly. _

_Hells Bells - AC/DC - I chose this song for the guitar riff alone. The lyrics do complement the scenario nicely, but the mood the guitar sets is what I'm going for._

_A Well Respected Man - The Kinks - This song always makes me think of my father. I believe this song embodies how Christine views her father until she reads the journal. We'll have to see how that changes in the chapters to come. _

_Thanks for coming along for the ride. Now let's fast forward ten years to "Devils Trap" where Bobby makes his first appearance in our beloved fandom. _

_Below is a link to my playlist for this work, just take out the space for the link to work. _

_xoxo_

_Lumora The White _

_playlist link : www. youtube .__com/watch?v=eedm15ZEaEg&amp;index=1&amp;list=PLwUIPc_Oc20HPKbPgabVia_s-8WEeD2Vy_


	2. The Boys Are Back In Town

**Long, Long Way From Home**

_Previously…_

_She barked a laugh, __"__I feel like I__'__m going insane. This can__'__t be happening!__'_

_Dean smiled a knowing smile. This was why he wanted to be there for her. He remembered wondering if his Dad really had just gone insane after his mom died in their house fire. He was mostly convinced by his father__'__s conviction and his unwavering orders to protect Sammy at all cost. __"__What can I do to prove this is really happening?__" __He asked with a shy smile. He knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to kiss her. That would be a nice memory to lighten up the darkness she had just discovered. _

_Christine's eyes widened at his question and a blush crept up her cheeks. "Uh, well." She stammered, "Y-you could stay here until I fall asleep. I don't want to be alone right now." She thought Dean was dangerously attractive, but she knew she wasn't pretty enough for him. She saw the way he looked at Melissa, one of her classmates who lived just down the street. It didn't stop her from thinking what it would be like for him to look at her that way though. _

_Dean shrugged it off, "Of course." He slid off the bed so she could pull back the covers. Christine settled herself in bed while Dean tucked up the covers around her. Before he could stop himself, he leaned down and placed a soft kiss at her temple. Then he settled next to her, propped up against the headboard, letting her curl up next to him. His fingers found themselves in her soft hair again as he listened to her breathing slowly even out. He told himself he would just stay long enough to make sure she was asleep, that was a great plan until sleep came swiftly for him too._

* * *

**Chapter Two : The Boys Are Back In Town**

Christine awoke to the sound of an engine revving outside the, back door. The sound was unmistakably the deep throaty purr of the Impala. Mr. Winchester had returned. Sitting up in bed she found Dean to be already upright, and running his fingers through his short hair to fix it into his usual "devil may care" swagger in her dresser mirror. He turned back to the bed, "Dad's back. From the sound of it, we're heading out right now. Bobby's pissed, so I don't know when we'll be back." He leaned down to her and kissed her temple, pulling her into a tight hug. Another quick kiss to her temple, and a callused finger lifted her chin; he looked directly into her eyes. "See ya, Chris." Chris. She had only ever let her father call her that. She didn't mind it coming from the eldest Winchester.

"See ya, Winchester." She yawned with a shy smile. He disappeared into the darkness with that shit eating grin that made her heart melt. That was the last time she saw Dean Winchester.

* * *

**Ten Years Later : Late Summer 2006**

Life with Bobby Singer was always an adventure. When Christine learned of her parent's involvement with the supernatural, she began training full tilt. School always came first, Bobby insisted. He would often tell her if she ever got the chance, she should get out of this life. Christine was hell bent on hunting down the demon that killed her father, she didn't see that there was anyway out of this life. Bobby was testament to that. After his wife's death he didn't run away from this life, he embraced it. He would go on the occasional hunt when he was unable to find a hunter to dispatch to it. Most days the duo could be found bent over books in the library or working out in the salvage yard.

Bobby surprised Christine with an antique upright grand piano for her sixteenth birthday. She had a solo in the choir concert her sophomore year. Bobby had shown up in one of his FBI "monkey suits"; hair slicked back, beard trimmed and a nervousness that was extremely endearing. He always insisted that she pursue other interests than target practice, kickboxing or lore research. Christine at least enjoyed music, she even took piano and voice lessons from a retired school teacher in town. She told herself she only kept playing after high school to appease Bobby. After all he had done for her, she wanted a way to thank him. The hard headed bastard wouldn't admit it, but he enjoyed the music almost as much as his whiskey. When it was too dark to work out in the salvage, or too cold, and they had their fill of research, Christine would sit and play for a while. Sometimes she would even sing.

She listened to old cassette tapes she found while working on cars for Bobby. AC/DC, Bad Company, Bob Seger, Journey, Foreigner and Def Leppard were her usual juke box. That's where she was now, sitting on the piano bench, hands to to the keys, her voice lifted in song. Bobby could hear the words, "walk away, if you want to, it's okay, if you need to. You can run, but you can never hide, from the shadow that's creepin' up inside you." He smiled and turned to look out the kitchen window, facing the salvage yard. Def Leppard was always included in her afternoon set list.

He had answered the phone earlier when Christine was out in the salvage yard doing some clean up. Sam and Dean Winchester were on their way over. John Winchester had gone missing awhile back, and Sam teamed up with Dean to find him. After returning to school a week later, Sam's girlfriend was murdered the same way their mother was. Sam was back in the life just like that, in hot pursuit of the yellow eyed demon like his father and older brother.

Now John had been captured by some demons and they were demanding The Colt, the real one. Apparently John had taken a fake to buy the boys some time to find ol' yellow eyes. The plan backfired and John was captured. Bobby and John had a falling out ten years earlier. John was a damn good hunter. Sometimes he could be reckless. Bobby didn't agree with the way he was getting information on the yellow eyed demon. John was torturing people who were possessed and more often then not those people were ending up dead when he finished exorcizing them. Bobby didn't want to be a part of hunting like that. He tried to tell John that there were still people trapped in those meat suits. John wouldn't hear of it. So, ten years ago, he had threatened John with a shot gun and told him to never come back. The boys were safely tucked away in the house, but he knew Dean had heard and understood the exchange when he passed him to join his father in the Impala.

When he received Dean's phone call this afternoon, he didn't hesitate to help the boys. John may be a crazy son of a bitch with unorthodox methods, but that didn't mean his life didn't matter. As soon as he hung up Bobby poured over a few volumes he had on demonology for anything that would help the boys in this boss fight. He knew about devil traps and exorcisms, but he wanted to see if anything other information would help. He had asked Christine to fetch The Key of Solomon from her desk upstairs, he knew she was reading it again since he found her carving a devil's trap in the ceiling by his fireplace. She had explained they could lure the demon inside the house, let it think it was cornering them and bam! They had it trapped. Who looks up at the ceiling these days? He knew Sam would want to see the book, being the nerd of the two. He even filled two flasks for the boys, one with holy water, the other, whiskey. Now all they needed to do was wait. He poured himself a glass and settled in an arm chair, listening to Christine finish 'Two Steps Behind.'

* * *

The Impala came to a grinding halt in the dust at Bobby's back porch. Sam pocketed his phone and looked over at Dean. Dean sat still, hands resting on the wheel, staring out into the middle distance. "Dean," Sam inquired, "Hey man, are you okay?"

Dean sniffed and shook his head slightly, a hand wiping across his face. "Yeah," he ground out, clearing his throat. The minute they turned on to Bobby's road, the flashback started. He was back in Christine's room, it was the last time he saw her. He had wanted to kiss her, but they were far too young. Now ten years had flown by. She knew the family business. She definitely wasn't too young now.

"Bobby seemed cool over the phone, right?" Sam asked, worry seeping into his voice. He remembered the night that they left Bobby's and why they didn't return until now.

"Yeah, its fine." Dean waving him off, pushing himself out of the car. Sam followed suit and started up the dirt path to the porch steps. Dean shut the door and leaned against it for a moment, letting Sam go ahead of him. He could hear piano music floating on the breeze. A soulful female voice was singing. He pushed off the door and followed Sam up to the house. He wondered if Bobby had picked up a taste for classical music.

The brother's reached the door and Dean could make out the words being sung, "I was inside, looking outside, oh the millions of faces, but still I'm alone." Foreigner. Hmmm. The music sounded recorded, but he hadn't ever heard a piano cover of Long, Long Way From Home, let alone a female singing lead.

Christine didn't hear the car or Bobby leave his chair, she was enjoying herself too much. She knew Bobby had settled in an arm chair behind her and she was in the groove. Bobby heard the Impala pull in and almost interrupted Christine, but thought it might be fun to see how the boys reacted to her. He knew Dean had a crush on the girl at sixteen. Let's see what ten years of wondering had done. With that in mind, he got up and went to the back door.

Bobby opened the door before Sam could knock and the older man pulled the younger one into a bear hug. "Hey Bobby!" Sam exclaimed. Dean came next and same greeting was had. Bobby felt somewhat responsible for the boys since John left them with him occasionally as they were growing up.

"Bobby," Dean said with a nod. Bobby smiled and put a finger to his lips, leading the way into the den.

Christine was still singing and playing like there was no one around. Dean drank in the sight of her. Her unruly curly blonde hair had relaxed a little, but had doubled in length, falling almost to her waist. Her shoulders and arms looked toned, and she still had that creamy white complexion that made him weak in the knees. "Monday! Sad, sad Monday! He's waiting for me, but I'm a long, long way from home!" She finished the song with a flourish. As the chords faded away a voice from her past broke into her reverie.

"Foreigner?" Dean quipped. All three men stood in the archway between the kitchen and den.

Christine swung around. She knew the boys were coming, she just didn't expect Bobby to let her play through their arrival. She took in the sight of all three of them standing there, all with goofy grins on their faces. Christine was speechless.

"What?" Dean laughed, "No smart ass remark?" He teased, taking a step forward.

Dean Winchester had grown up to be a dangerously handsome man. Sam still looked a bit boyish with his skater boy hair cut and oversized shoulders, but his height was a great surprise. He at least had three inches on his younger brother. Dean, he was all sharp angles, muscles, well worn jeans and boots. Christine gripped the piano bench to steady herself. He still had that shit eating grin down to a science. She swallowed thickly and then spoke, "I thought you'd be taller." She grinned then broke into a giggle. She stood up and got clear of the piano bench.

Dean guessed that she was at least 5'9", her legs seemed to go for a mile. She filled out nicely, her chest more than ample, and her figure curvy but fit. Her eyes, however, were the same wide green ones he almost lost himself in that night he left. He took another step forward and said softly, "C'mere Chris."

Christine went into his outstretched arms gladly. She had expected the reunion to be more awkward. Granted, her and Dean had a history that trumped a ten year hiatus. Looking over Dean's shoulder she could have sworn she saw tears in Bobby's eyes. Sam was already pouring over the book she had retrieved from her room. Sam looked up from the book as Dean and Christine pulled a part. "Great to see you Christine, you sound amazing." He smiled and then went back to the book. Typical Sam, even back then he was always keenly interested in books and information, and slightly more introverted than Dean to boot.

Dean nodded in agreement, clearing his throat. "I thought Bobby had some top secret recording or something." He chuckled. Christine shook her head and playfully punched him in the arm. He took note of the firmness in her punch. Maybe the rumors he'd been hearing of her hunting on her own actually had some truth to them. He played hurt, then put his arm around her, and leaned in to whisper in her ear, "We'll talk more later, I promise." She nodded, there were more urgent things at the moment then their relationship. They needed to focus on finding John.

"Here ya go," Bobby handed Dean a silver flask.

"What's this? Holy water?" Dean asked.

"That one is," Bobby answered, "This one's whiskey," he said holding up the other, taking a quick swig then handing it to Dean who followed suit.

"Bobby, thanks. Thanks for everything. To tell you the truth, I wasn't sure we should come." Dean said pocketing the flasks.

"Nonsense, you're daddy needs help," Bobby answered, hands resting on his hips.

Dean chuckled, "Well, last time we were here, you did threatened to blast him full of buckshot."

"Yeah, you cocked the shotgun and everything," Christine chimed in from the kitchen. She was grabbing some beers from the fridge.

"Yeah, what can I say. John just has that effect on people." Bobby answered with a shrug.

Dean nodded knowingly, "Yeah, guess he does." He gave a tight smile, and took the beer being offered to him.

"None of that matters now. All that matters is that you get him back." Bobby said, looking over at Sam.

"Bobby, this book." Sam let out a breath, "I've never seen anything like it."

"The Key of Solomon," Christine said, plopping down on the piano bench once again. "its the real deal alright." She smiled, turning to play a few keys softly. Bobby sat down on the edge of the desk, Dean was perusing the shelves, stealing glances at Christine across the room. Christine pretended to ignore him. That look she saw in his eyes the night he left was back, this time she actually understood what it meant.

"And these uh, these protective circles, they really work?" Sam asked pointing to the picture before him.

"Hell yeah, " Bobby said, "You get a demon in one, they're trapped, powerless. It's like a satanic roach motel." They all chuckled at that.

"Man know's his stuff." Christine stated. She had turned around and left the keys abandoned.

"Yeah." the brother's agreed.

"I'll tell you something else now too." Bobby continued, "This is some serious crap you boys stepped in."

Sam straightened up in his chair, "Oh yeah, how's that?" He asked.

Dean took a swig of beer and made room for Christine as she joined their little pow-wow around the desk.

"Normal year, I hear of say, three demonic possessions, maybe four tops." Bobby explained.

"Yeah," Dean said intrigued.

Bobby continued, "This year I've heard of 27."

"So far," Christine finished for him. She had been helping Bobby keep track of the possessions, based just on the sheer number alone, something big was a foot.

"You get what I'm saying?" Bobby asked, the brother's nodded. "More and more demons are walking among us."

"A lot more," Christine huffed, exchanging a look with Dean.

"Do you know why?" Sam asked, taking a swig of beer himself.

"No," Bobby answered.

"But we know its something big. There's a storm coming." Christine stated, handing Sam the file she had retrieved from her desk upstairs containing all the demonic possessions so far this year.

"And you boys, your daddy, you are smack in the middle of it." Bobby told Sam and Dean. Suddenly Rumsfeld started howling in the back yard. "Rumsfeld!" Bobby ran over to the kitchen window and peered out the blinds.

"Something's wrong." Christine exclaimed, clearing the beer bottles away into the kitchen. She dropped them in the recycling and came back into the den heading for the back door. Before she could get there, it flew open, and Meg Masters walked in.

"No more crap, okay?" Meg spat as wood splinters flew through the air.

Dean charged forward holy water flask in hand, Meg just smirked and with a wave of her arm sent Dean flying into a stack of books. Christine had just reached the archway between the kitchen and den when the door flew open. She shielding her face from the flying books as Dean hit the ground. Quickly, she knelt down next to Dean to see if he was still breathing.

Sam stepped forward, shielding Bobby from Meg's advance. "I want The Colt Sam, the REAL Colt. Right now." She demanded. Christine could feel the rise and fall of Dean's chest, along with a steady pulse. He was going to be alright, he was just down for the count. Bobby locked eyes with Sam, and grabbed the younger man's arm, discretely steering them deeper into the room beyond Christine and Dean.

"We don't have it on us, we buried it." Sam answered tightly. He had seen the devil's trap on the ceiling earlier. Bobby really did know his stuff.

"Didn't I say, 'no more crap'?" Meg taunted, slowly advancing on the pair, following them deeper into the room. "After everything I've heard about you Winchesters, I gotta tell you, I'm a little underwhelmed. First Jonny tries to pawn off a fake gun, and then he leaves the real gun with you two chuckleheads." She paused for what seemed like effect, "Lackluster, men." She took a breath and continued following them, "I mean, did you really think I wouldn't find you?"

Meanwhile, Dean had awoken. He was a little dazed, but seemed to have his wits about him. Christine rolled her eyes up toward the ceiling and inclined her head to the retreating duo by the fireplace. Dean gave a minuscule nod and with her help stood up as quietly as they could.

"Actually, we were counting on it." Dean ground out, his rage barely contained. Meg turned at the sound of his voice. If looks could kill, Meg would have been in flames. Dean's eyes went to the ceiling, and like a mouse caught in a trap, Meg's eyes followed. They had managed to keep Meg talking and unaware of the trap waiting for her on the ceiling.

Christine stepped out from behind Dean and gave a smug smile, "Gotcha."

* * *

_from the author's desk…_

_Reunited and it feels so good! They have many more pressing matters like finding John and then ultimately surviving… but at least we've had a short, but sweet reunion. _

_The Boys Are Back In Town - Thin Lizzy. I always think of Sam and Dean whenever I hear this song. I believe Season 1 is all about "getting the band back together." _

_Will Dean take Christine with him? Or will she go on a hunt of her own? We'll see! Until then, cheers!_

_xoxo_

_Lumora The White_


	3. Lonely Is The Night

**Long, Long Way From Home**

_Previously…_

"_Didn__'__t I say, '__no more crap__'__?" __Meg taunted, slowly advancing on the pair, following them deeper into the room. __"__After everything I__'__ve heard about you Winchesters, I gotta tell you, I__'__m a little underwhelmed. First Jonny tries to pawn off a fake gun, and then he leaves the real gun with you two chuckleheads.__" __She paused for what seemed like effect, __"__Lackluster, men.__" __She took a breath and continued following them, __"__I mean, did you really think I wouldn__'__t find you?__"_

_Meanwhile, Dean had awoken. He was a little dazed, but seemed to have his wits about him. Christine rolled her eyes up toward the ceiling and inclined her head to the retreating duo by the fireplace. Dean gave a minuscule nod and with her help stood up as quietly as they could. _

"_Actually, we were counting on it.__" __Dean ground out, his rage barely contained. Meg turned at the sound of his voice. If looks could kill, Meg would have been in flames. Dean__'__s eyes went to the ceiling, and like a mouse caught in a trap, Meg__'__s eyes followed. They had managed to keep Meg talking and unaware of the trap waiting for her on the ceiling. _

_Christine stepped out from behind Dean gave a smug, __"Gotcha."_

* * *

**Chapter Three : Lonely Is The Night**

Christine slumped forward on the back porch railing, staring out over the hundred or so cars in various disarray in the salvage yard. Inside she could hear Dean shouting at Meg. Once they had trapped her, the boys quickly tied her to a chair. Christine had at particularly disturbing exorcism she performed last week on a girl that looked a lot like Meg Masters. The girl hadn't survived. Bobby tried to tell her that the demon had killed the girl weeks ago, probably just after possessing her. Christine didn't even blink when the girl just fell over dead. Bobby thought she was just upset, that's why she didn't cry or react. Really she was just surprised that she was willing to go that far to find out about the demon that killed her father. She recognized the desperation and anguish in Dean's voice. She knew that kind of pain. At least he had the chance to save his father.

Christine let out a breath, and squaring her shoulders straightened up away from the railing. Turning to go back into the house, the sound of flesh connecting with flesh reached her ears. Dean was getting rough with Meg. Christine rushed into the den past a tight lipped Bobby and a tense Sam who had stopped the exorcism mid sentence, right up into Dean's rage filled face. "Dean!" She cried, her hands gripping his biceps, trying to get his eyes to meet hers. After a few seconds, Dean registered that he wasn't staring in to Meg's black eyes, but Christine's green ones.

"Chris?" He asked softly, somewhat in a daze.

"Dean, can I talk to you for a second?" Christine asked, forcefully pulling him away from the devil's trap and the demon writhing within it. "You have to be careful with her, don't hurt her." Christine warned when they were out of ear shot.

"What?" Dean scoffed, throwing up his hands, letting them rest on the back of head.

"She is a girl possessed by a demon, there's an innocent girl trapped in there somewhere," She explained, "can't you tell?" She asked incredulously.

Dean considered her for a moment. Then he stepped forward and placed his hands on her shoulders, "That's actually good news."

"Why?" Christine shot back. She didn't know how killing an innocent girl was good news. "You said she fell from a building Dean."

"Yeah, so?" Dean huffed.

"Yeah so?" Christine mocked, "That girl's body is broken."

Bobby returned from finding Rumsfeld who had been let loose by Meg. "That demon is the only thing keeping that girl alive. You exorcise it, that girl is gonna die."

"Listen to me, both of you." Dean's voice was intense as she'd ever heard it, "we're not gonna leave her like that."

"She is a human being!" Christine shot back. Bobby gave her a pointed look, as if to say "I told you so" about last week. Christine ducked her head to avoid eye contact with him.

"And we're gonna put her out of her misery!" Dean shouted. Bobby and Christine were silent. Christine wouldn't even meet Dean's eyes now. Dean returned to the den where Sam and Meg were. "Sam, finish it." he ordered. Sam hesitated. "Finish it!" Dean cried.

Sam opened the book again and began speaking. He only had a few phrases left. Suddenly black smoke poured from Meg's mouth toward the ceiling. Christine rushed to the girl's side when the smoke cleared. Blood oozed from her mouth, and she gave a small cough.

"She's still alive! Call 9-1-1 and get some water and blankets!" Christine cried, hurriedly working to until Meg's wrists from the chair. Dean worked on the other side while Sam called 911 and Bobby gather's supplies.

Dean looked over Meg's still bowed head to Christine. She was visibly shaken by the reality that Meg was going to die. He remembered that a demon had murdered her father. He now wondered if the demon had possessed him too. They had Meg free of the chair. It was time to lift her out. "1, 2, 3!" Dean counted off when Christine was ready. They gently laid Meg on the Persian rug, Bobby arrived with a few blankets and a glass of water. Dean supported Meg's head and offered the glass to her. Christine took the blankets and rolled one placing it under the girls head and settling the other over her broken body. Dean was trying to get information out of Meg. Christine knew they were desperate and Meg was the only shot they had to pinpointing John's location. She couldn't stay. She made sure the girl was as comfortable as she could be, then Christine found herself on the back porch again. This time she sat d'own on the porch, her legs swinging through the railing. She wished seeing Dean again wasn't because his father was in trouble. As much as she disagreed with the man's methods, there was an unexplainable helplessness that came from losing a parent. She was lucky to have Bobby.

Dean and Sam gathered their belongings, Bobby gave Sam The Key of Solomon. Meg had passed away before they could pinpoint an exact location. They at least have a direction to go, 'by the river' and 'sunrise'. They bid Bobby goodbye and made their way out of the house back to the Impala. Sam emerged first and nodded at Christine with a polite wave. They had never been really close. Her and Dean however, that was a totally different story. Dean came out next. He almost left the porch and headed for the garage before he realized Christine was sitting there instead of stuck under some car like Bobby thought.

"Didn't even make it to the garage?" Dean asked settling down next to her. Christine just sighed and leaned into him for support. Dean leaned close to meet her and spoke softly, "I know I'd said we'd talk, and we'll talk, but I have to find my Dad. We've got a few hints as to where he might be." He took a breath, searching her eyes for understanding. "Chris, I don't want to just leave, I-"

Christine cut him off by placing a finger to his lips. "Dean, go get your father. Do what I couldn't do. Save him." She whispered, tears spilling over and down her cheeks.

Dean nodded and helped her stand before wrapping her up in a hug. "I wish things were different." He confessed, pulling back to look at her again, "Would you come with us?" Dean asked, almost afraid she would say yes.

Christine stopped herself from running upstairs for her go bag. She took a deep breath, thinking for a moment. "Dean, I'm more useful here. This is too big to have your attention divided. I'll be here safe, you just come back to me in one piece." Her tears were gone now, just a sad smile playing at her lips.

"Yes ma'am." He teased, releasing her. "I'll call you when we're on our way back. Bobby asked me to bring him 'round anyway." He opened his mouth like he was going to say something else, but closed it. He turned and jogged to the Impala, throwing his backpack in the back window, sliding smoothly into the driver's seat. The Impala roared to life, and just before he put the car into gear. Dean looked up at her and shouted, "See ya Chris!" The Impala launched like a bottle rocket and was gone in a cloud of dust.

"See ya Winchester." Christine mumbled, she could hear sirens in the distance.

The authorities arrived. Bobby explained they found the girl by the side of the road when they came back from their trip into town. They had loaded her into the backseat of Christine's car and tried to get her comfortable and immediately called 9-1-1. The police took their statements, and since there wasn't any blood or obvious signs of struggle they left after an hour of investigation.

Christine found herself back on the porch again. The sun had began to set, and the breeze carried with it the scent of rushing water and grease.

"Aww, they'll be back." Bobby drawled, coming to stand beside her.

"Bobby!" Christine jumped at the sound his voice. "I swear!" She exclaimed.

"Jumpy are we?" Bobby chuckled, he turned to her, and studied her for a moment. It was one thing to be reunited with Dean, it was another entirely to be reunited then swiftly separated again. He placed a hand on her shoulder, "You okay sweetie?" Only Uncle Bobby could call her sweetie.

Christine sighed, "No," She shook her head, "I'm not." Dean coming back, surprised her. Dean leaving again was expected giving the circumstances, but not truly welcome.

Bobby offered his arms, and she found herself letting him wrap her up for a moment. "I know you said you would stay around here, but I think I've got a case in a town just outside of Minneapolis. It seems just like a simple salt and burn, but I don't have anyone close to it. We're actually the closest hunters at the moment."

Christine considered it for a moment. It might be nice to actually get out and do something instead of tinker on some cars and worry herself silly. "Sure, why not?" She shrugged, pushing past him to the house. Bobby followed and held the screen door as she went through. She hung a left and went straight up the stairs, while Bobby went into the kitchen to fix some lunch.

"St. Cloud Minnesota." Bobby said when Christine came into the kitchen. She carried a duffel bag and a laptop case. He handed her a credit card with the name Roxanne Mitchell on it. "Local police department has two bodies on its hand that have been strangled. The weird part is, both victims were alone at the time and neighbors didn't see anything or anyone leaving or entering either house at the time of death. Both vics live alone, so its not usual for them not to get many visitors its just not normal-"

"For them to end up dead." Christine finished with a nod. "Gotcha Bobby, I'll head up there and take care of it pronto." She grabbed one of the two sandwiches Bobby had made. "You call if you hear from the Winchesters." With that, she exited the house.

Christine's car of choice was a beautiful 1972 Dodge Challenger that Bobby helped her rebuild while she was in high school. Two toned, black on top with a gorgeous ruby red on the bottom, the car was a gem. Most guys liked to comment on her car when she was on a hunt alone, asking her if her daddy knew she was driving that. If they only knew.

She opened the trunk, and lifted the warded inside lid to reveal her arsenal. Foam custom cut for her various knives and stakes as well as her favorite revolver, glock, and sawed off. There were a few items like silver bullet mags, as well as rock salt rounds that had their own compartments. A fresh bag of rock salt she had gotten last week went in as well as her trusty spade, a can of lighter fluid and a bic lighter she lifted from Dean's pocket an hour ago. On second thought, she withdrew the lighter and placed it in her pocket, just to have a piece of Dean close to her for the moment. Satisfied that she had everything she needed, she shut the lid and placed her duffle bag on top and finally the trunk lid itself. A quick check of the painted wards on the trunk put her mind at ease and she climbed into the driver's seat. Now to pick her soundtrack. The glove compartment was the place to look if you ever needed any classic rock. ever. After shuffling through a few cassettes, she found Def Leppard, Hysteria. In it went. The tape had stopped on side two the last time she played it. The first chords of the title track sang through her custom speakers. Closing the glove box, she settled her map in the front seat and turned the key.

Roxy's engine roared to life with a delightful growl. Bobby had taken to calling the car Roxanne. He said it was because of the glowing red she had painted the bottom. She put her in gear and drove off towards little St. Cloud.

The hunt was almost too easy. She arrived into town pretty late, so she booked a room and grabbed the hunter four. The next day proved to be really fruitful. The two victims were brothers and the vengeful spirit turned out to be their aunt who had looked after them as kids. Posing as an FBI agent looking into the recent murders, she liaised with the local sheriff. The sheriff was really nice, but overtly sweet. Christine had to lie and say she was married to get him to back off. The boys had never married, and didn't have any kids. She set to the street to see what she could find. She interviewed neighbors and found one that divulged the information she needed.

"Sally Mae died about a five years ago. Car accident. Joey, the eldest claimed to see her last week. He was mowing his lawn and she was standing at the end of the driveway. I told him he was crazy." Jasper, Joey's neighbor told her while they were standing by his mailbox. "The crazier thing was Drew said the same thing three days ago. That night I went over to his house and found him on the floor in his kitchen, just like Joey. I just don't know what to make of it." Christine thanked Jasper for his time an headed back to her motel room. Using her laptop, she quickly found were the old woman was planted and packed her things. She planned on skipping town as soon as the bones were lit.

The bone yard was easy to find, just on the out skirts of town. The sun was just beginning to set. Pulling out her spade, and putting her salt and lighter fluid in a back pack, she headed into the cemetery. She found the headstone, tucked away in the corner of the yard, under a big willow tree. An hour and a half later, she hit something solid. The casket was difficult to get open, but after using her crow bar she had stuck in her back pocket, she had the lid open.

The spade came up first, then she hoisted herself up out of the grave to the level of the living. Now fully dark, her surroundings hid what she was about to do even better. She pulled out the salt and spread it over the bones, along with a good coating of lighter fluid. Taking the bandana she had used to wipe her face while she dug, she took out Dean's lighter. Suddenly her phone rang, classic rock guitar breaking the just dark silence. Bobby, Maybe he had heard from the Winchesters. She lit the edge of the fabric quickly and dropped it in the grave. As the flames spread, she answered the call.

"Hey Bobby, what's up?" Christine said quietly, still trying to maintain a controlled atmosphere around her and remain on high alert for anyone in the area.

"Hey kid, uh. I just got a call from Sam. I'm heading to the hospital in Sioux Falls. Chris, the boys and John. They were in an accident." Bobby's voice was sober, there was something he wasn't telling her. "They were railroaded by a semi, Sam says the driver was possessed. I'm headed there to tow the Impala."

A sob tore at her throat. "Is Dean," She choked, "Is Dean okay?"

"Christine," Bobby sighed, "He's in bad shape." Dean was alive, but not okay. She quickly grabbed her bag and made her way back to her car.

"I'm on my way." She said, wiping away the tears that had blurred her vision. Pocketing her phone she loaded her back pack in the trunk. Her photographic memory got her back the way she came without even a glance at her map. Christine found herself putting in her tape of Billy Squire. The first chords of "Lonely Is The Night" helped her calm down a bit. She hung a left unto the highway and roared off into the night headed straight for Sioux Falls Memorial Hospital.

* * *

_from the author's desk…_

_Lonely Is The Night - Billy Squire - I picture this song on Christine's playlist of sad songs, mostly because this song is also motivational in a round about way. She doesn't just let things happen, she fights and makes things happen. _

_This chapter did not go like I thought it would. I'm along for the ride as much as you all are! Thank you to all who have followed/favorited this fic. I'm tickled pink. The reviews are so encouraging. Keep 'em coming! _

_xoxo _

_Lumora The White _


	4. Bad Moon Rising

**Long, Long Way From Home**

_Previously…_

_The spade came up first, then she hoisted herself up out of the grave to the level of the living. Now fully dark, her surroundings hid what she was about to do even better. She pulled out the salt and spread it over the bones, along with a good coating of lighter fluid. Taking the bandana she had used to wipe her face while she dug, she took out Dean's lighter. Suddenly her phone rang, classic rock guitar breaking the just dark silence. Bobby, Maybe he had heard from the Winchesters. She lit the edge of the fabric quickly and dropped it in the grave. As the flames spread, she answered the call. __  
_

"_Hey Bobby, what__'__s up?__" __Christine said quietly, still trying to maintain a controlled atmosphere around her and remain on high alert for anyone in the area. _

"_Hey kid, uh. I just got a call from Sam. I__'__m heading to the hospital in Sioux Falls. Chris, the boys and John. They were in an accident.__" __Bobby__'__s voice was sober, there was something he wasn__'__t telling her. __"__They were railroaded by a semi, Sam says the driver was possessed. I__'__m headed to the police department there to tow the Impala.__" _

_A sob tore at her throat. __"__Is Dean,__" __She choked, __"__Is Dean okay?__" _

"_Christine,__" __Bobby sighed, __"__He__'__s in bad shape.__" __Dean was alive, but not okay. She quickly grabbed her bag and made her way back to her car. _

"_I__'__m on my way.__" __She said, wiping away the tears that had blurred her vision. Her photographic memory got her back the way she came without even a glance at her map. Christine found herself putting in her tape of Billy Squire. The first chords of __"__Lonely Is The Night__" __helped her calm down a bit. She hung a left unto the highway and roared off into the night headed straight for Sioux Falls Memorial Hospital._

* * *

**Chapter Four : ****Bad Moon Rising**

Sam sat on the floor of Dean's room, watching as the planchette spelled the letters, R-E-A-P. "A Reaper." he concluded aloud. "Is it after you?" He asked. The planchette moved once more this time to the world "yes". "Okay," Sam said in response, "Dad'll know what to do." With that he got up and quickly left Dean's room. He arrived at John's room and found it empty.

The front desk was extremely busy when Christine arrived. She tried Bobby's cell to see if he had made it back to the hospital after towing the Impala home. He didn't answer. She found Sam's number in her phone, glancing about the waiting room one more time before pressing send. Just before she pushed the button she spied a frantic Sam emerge from the patient hallway. Their eyes met across the frenzy of people. "Sam!" She cried.

"Christine?" Sam exclaimed in disbelief. He waved her over to him and wrapped her up in a big hug. Still with an arm around her shoulders, he guided her past the front desk. Once they were alone in the hallway he turned to her. "What are you doing here?" He asked.

Christine found herself reaching for his injured face, "Making sure you Winchesters are alright. Are you okay?" she asked, her fingers smoothing along his jaw.

"Yeah, I'm fine, these are mostly from the fighting we did with the demons when we got Dad back." He assured her, covering her hands with his own. "I didn't know you cared so much." He whispered.

Christine realized he was taking her concern too far, probably the trauma had scrambled his brain a bit, "I do," She quickly took back her hands and stepped back from him. Sam seemed to shrug off her rejection. "How's your dad? Is Dean awake?"

Sam sighed, "Dad's gone from his room. I haven't found him all night. Dean's a ghost, and-"

"Dean's dead?" Christine exclaimed trying to track with him.

"No!" Sam cried, "No, he's in a coma. There's a reaper after him and-"

Christine was already moving into the room Sam had stopped them in front of. She had recognized Dean's hair immediately. Dean lay unmoving on the hospital bed, a tube shoved down his throat, at least three IV's stuck in his left arm. He had a few scrapes on his jaw and right cheek and a nasty gash on his forehead above his left eye. Christine took his battered hand in hers and settled in the chair pulled up next to the bed. Sam had disappeared again, maybe he went to check his father's room again.

Spirit Dean hovered in the corner of the room, watching Christine fuss over his bedclothes. Screw the heat between Bobby and his Dad. He should have gone back for his best friend. She was always meeting him stride for stride, challenge for challenge. She never backed down from any scheme they came up with, whether it was stealing booze from Bobby's liquor cabinet, or swiping Rumsfeld's bone. Both Bobby and Rumsfeld were forces to be reckoned with and Christine showed no fear. Even at sixteen, he knew there was something special about Christine. You don't just meet a girl who can bullseye bottles off a fence after just a few tries, and can pin you the first time in a fight, everyday. "I should have called or at least written a letter. I'm sorry Chris." He apologized, knowing she couldn't hear him. She had resolved to laying her forehead on his hand that she had cradled within her own. As soon as his spoke, her head snapped up. She took a deep breath, shrugging her shoulders and casually sitting back in the chair as if to covertly survey the room. Maybe she was more aware of him than he thought.

He came close to Christine, her eyes had gone wide, as if she was trying to figure out if he was there. It was strange to stare into her eyes and they not register his presence. They were still as beautiful as he remembered. "Dean?" She whispered, her face turning away from him just enough. He summoned some strength he had regained after going full on Swayze on that glass in Dad's room, and pressed a kiss to her temple. She reacted immediately, her fingers flying up to her brow, whirling towards him. She looked around, searching for a source to the pressure she had felt. "Sam told me you're up and walking around," She whispered. "That better be you." she warned, thinking that if it wasn't she needed the iron rounds she had packed in her pistol. Dean found himself face to face with Tess again. This time she didn't look quite right.

Sam reappeared. He cocked his head to one side as he observed Christine reaching for what he guessed to be her gun. "Christine?" He asked gently, his hands coming up by his sides in a mild "surrender" gesture.

"Sam!" She exclaimed, her hand letting go of her waist and settling back around Dean's. Suddenly Dean's eye flew open. His heart rate monitor started beeping and he was gasping around the tube shoved down his throat. "Oh my God! Dean!" Christine cried, "He's awake!" She tried to get him to lie back down, but a few nurses and doctors swarmed around him, causing her to let go of his hand. A nurse quickly removed the breathing tube, and adjusted a setting on the machine next to him.

Once the frenzy had died down. the doctor looked at his chart and vitals and shook his head in disbelief. "Your contusion is gone, your bones are healed, heck even the scaring around your ribs is gone." He shook his head again, "You must have a some guardian angel, kid, you've got a completely clean bill of health." With that he swept from the room in all his white coated glory.

"Thanks doc," Dean said with his usual shit eating grin. Christine had settled back in the chair by his bed. Sam was all smiles, and kept blinking like he expected Dean to just disappear. Sam's phone rang, it was Bobby. He answered it, mouthing "Bobby," as he headed out into the hallway.

Dean and Christine were alone. Finally. Christine found herself unable to meet his gaze. She couldn't believe he was okay. "You heard me." He murmured, not as a question, more like a statement.

"I felt you too." She whispered, her voice breaking, fingers lingering by her brow again.

Dean smiled. "I really am sorry Chris. You didn't deserve that." He said.

Christine shrugged, "We were just kids. We both know this world is bigger and more complicated than they two of us staying in touch." She smiled that same sad smile she had when he left that night, "You know, saving people, hunting things, the family business." She explained with a knowing smile.

"We are, uh," He cleared his throat, "were, best friends. You didn't deserve to be deserted just because Bobby and my Dad couldn't get along. Especially when I-" He stopped mid sentence as Sam returned to the room.

"When you what?" She prodded, drawing his gaze back to hers. Sam gave her a smile and nod, settling himself at the end of Dean's bed.

Dean swallowed hard. Was he willing to admit this in front of Sam? Son of a bitch. "Especially when I care about you." He said quickly, his eyes darting away from her face.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" She teased, leaning closer to him.

"You heard me." He mumbled, picking at the IV in his arm. He took a breath then asked Sam, "Where's Dad? He okay?"

Sam opened his mouth to speak. Suddenly John Winchester appeared in the doorway. Christine instantly felt very out of place. John smiled at both of his boys and gave Christine a warm greeting, "Why hello, Christine. You grew up fast." He chuckled, taking a few strides into the room. John Winchester had always given her butterflies. You could tell where Dean got his smile and "devil may care" swagger from. This man, right here.

"Hi Mr. Winchester." Christine smiled, getting to her feet. Dean could tell Christine felt out of place, her posture had stiffened and she wouldn't hardly look at him. "I'm glad you're awake Dean. I think I'm going to grab a cup of coffee, let you visit and all that." She gushed, all but rushing from the room. She paused just out of sight to hear their conversation.

"She grew up nice." John teased coming closer to Dean's bed.

"Shut up." Dean shot back with a grin.

"I'm serious, she's gorgeous." John assured him.

Christine didn't want to hear anymore. She fled down the hall to the kitchenette for patients and families. She found a coffee maker, empty. A few cabinets and drawers later and she had the coffee pot bubbling away. The smell alone revived her. She had driven all night. St. Cloud was only 5 hours away. She hadn't gotten Bobby's call until 1am. Then she had sat in the waiting room for almost an hour before Sam showed up.

The coffee pot finished purring and let out a pleasant puff of steam. She poured herself a cup brimming with the steaming rich liquid. Sam appeared behind her, and cleared his throat to let her know of his presence. "Hey," He said softly. She had moved further into the closet like space in search of a lid. He took her place at the coffee maker.

"Hey Sam," Christine replied, turning to face him.

"Dad wanted me to get him some caffeine." Sam explained.

"Hey, you're all grown up, or should I say over grown now." She laughed, "No judgement here. I live on this stuff." She swallowed. Sam was really tall, and super handsome. It was kind of alarming how attractive all three Winchester's were. "I should have taken orders." She mused.

Sam shook his head, "No, Dad and I started in on each other again, like always. I think the coffee is just a way for us to clear our heads." He smiled, his gaze on the cup.

"Very smart." Christine remarked, inching by him to escape the close quarters with him. He followed her out of the kitchenette. "I'm going to see if Dean needs anything." She explained, taking a sip from her cup.

"Okay, I'll give this to Dad and we'll get out of here soon." He gave her small nod, and headed down the hall She headed to the left towards Dean's room, he continued to John's room on the right.

Christine found Dean already up and about. However, he was only half dressed. His jeans and boots were already back in place. He was currently shirtless and rifling through an army green duffle bag. The furrow of his brow told her a vital piece of his wardrobe was missing. "Son of a bitch!" He muttered, still unaware of her presence. She cleared her throat, his eyes flew to the door, finding her eyes. "Son of a bitch!" He repeated, earning a giggle from Christine.

"What's the problem?" Christine asked, entering the room.

Dean rolled his eyes, "I can't find my shirt," he sighed disgustedly.

Christine laughed aloud. "I don't understand how that's a problem." She teased, rounding the bed to look in the closet that held his personal items.

Dean smirked. He could feel the sexual tension sparking between them. He turned to the closet, blocking Christine's exit from the space. She could feel his presence behind her as she drew the door closed. Dean inched closer, placing his hands on the wood frame, up around her ears. "Find anything interesting?" He asked innocently, waiting for her to turn around.

"Well," she started to say, whirling around to discover Dean much closer than she calculated, her hands coming into contact with his bare torso. "I think your shirt-" Her words trailed off as Dean came closer still, her hands dropping to her sides.

"You think my shirt?" He asked, his mouth dangerously close to hers. Christine was having trouble breathing let alone forming coherent thought.

"Uh, your shirt?" She breathed, not sure how to handle this mess. She wanted desperately to kiss Dean, heck she'd wanted this ten years ago. "It probably got ruined in the accident." She swallowed hard, forcing herself to meet his gaze.

Dean's eyes were light and playful. She could tell he was enjoying pinning her here. "Makes sense. Guess I have nothing to wear then." He replied cheekily, his eyes lingering on her mouth. He wanted to kiss her so badly, to make up for the lost time between them.

There was a loud commotion in the hall. Someone was screaming for help. Dean straightened, and took the shirt he had been wearing for his hospital stay from the tray table where he laid it. He knew that voice, "Sammy?" he shouted. Christine was already sprinting down the hall to towards John's room. Dean followed her and they both found Sam in the hall, doctors and nurses swarming around John's bed. A doctor using the crash cart was asking for more voltage.

Christine put her hand to her mouth to hold back a sob. She could tell that John was gone for good. His lips were already blue. Dean noticed she was about to collapse and wrapped his arms around her. She felt her knees give and she clung to him for support.

The doctor in charge had a nurse begin compressions. After a few moments he said, "Okay, that's it everybody. I'll call it." He said soberly. "Time of death, 10:41 AM."

* * *

_from the author__'__s desk__…_

_Bad Moon Rising - Creedence Clearwater Revival. This song is classic for foreboding and the like. This song embodies exactly what I think Dean was thinking when John leaned close and told him all those things about Sammy and what he had done._

_Up next we get a week or so off at Bobby__'__s house before the clown case. Let__'__s see where that puts Christine and Dean__'__s relationship._

_Thank you for all the follows, favorites, reviews and views! You guys rock!_

_xoxo_

_Lumora The White_


	5. Bad Company

**Long, Long Way From Home**

_Previously…_

_There was a loud commotion in the hall. Someone was screaming for help. Dean straightened, and took the shirt he had been wearing for his hospital stay from the tray table where he laid it. He knew that voice, "Sammy?" he shouted. Christine was already sprinting down the hall to towards John's room. Dean followed her and they both found Sam in the hall, doctors and nurses swarming around John's bed. A doctor using the crash cart was asking for more voltage. _

_Christine put her hand to her mouth to hold back a sob. She could tell that John was gone for good. His lips were already blue. Dean noticed she was about to collapse and wrapped his arms around her. She felt her knees give and she clung to him for support. _

_The doctor in charge had a nurse begin compressions. After a few moments he said, "Okay, that's it everybody. I'll call it." He said soberly. "Time of death, 10:41 AM."_

* * *

**Chapter Five : Bad Company**

Bobby arrived at the hospital to find the three kids waiting for him in the lobby. He had put on a suit and posed as an undertaker so they could give John a proper hunter's funeral back at the salvage. Sam was reading a home and garden magazine, no doubt he was just staring at the page, it didn't look like he had gotten very far into the volume. Dean sat with his arm around Christine, her head rested on his shoulder, and from the looks of it, she had dozed off. Dean met his eyes, and Bobby almost stopped in his tracks from the impact. Dean's eyes swam with indescribable sadness colored with barely contained anger. Bobby spoke with the front desk and informed the receptionist he was here for the body of John Winchester. She picked up the phone and confirmed his request.

"Chris," Dean whispered, moving his shoulder ever so slightly. She shifted a bit. "Bobby's here." He said, pressing his lips to her temple. Her eyelashes fluttered and their eyes met.

"I'm awake," she mumbled, sitting up straight, running fire engine red tipped fingers through her blonde hair. She stood up and straightened her black leather jacket, fishing her keys out of her right pocket. She leaned down to Dean who was still seated, watching her, and kissed his cheek. She straightened with a sad smile turning to follow Bobby out of the lobby.

Dean and Sam followed a nurse down to the morgue, while Christine and Bobby pulled their vehicles around back. She kept Roxy idling and watched as Dean and Sam helped Bobby load their father's body into the back. Once they had John securely in the back, Christine watched through misty eyes as Bobby pulled each boy into a monstrous hug. They weren't usually so demonstrative with affection. She felt blessed to be a part of a family that loved as deeply as they fought. The three men talked for a minute, then Bobby waved at her, and climbed in the driver's seat. Sam gave his brother a hug and sent a wave toward Christine, climbing in opposite Bobby. Dean was headed her way. Christine gripped the steering wheel and studied his melancholy striding form. He had his hands in the pockets of John's old leather jacket, his gaze not quite at his feet. The significance of him wearing the jacket never struck her until now. It looked a little big in the waist and hips, but suited his broad shoulders well. Wearing it now seemed more appropriate than ever.

Dean was thankful for Bobby. He didn't know how they would have gotten his Dad out of the hospital without him. Bobby had suggested they all head back to his place and give John a proper hunter's funeral, that's when Sam offered to drive back with him. Dean knew that he should go with Christine, he didn't want her to have to make the hour drive alone. He didn't want to leave his Dad either. He knew Christine worked in the salvage yard with Bobby. He had no idea she had restored a 1972 Dodge Challenger to mint. The car purred a lot like the Impala. The midnight black top half gleamed in the setting sunlight, while the deep red bottom glowed like a jewel. He was impressed at her handiwork. Bobby had commented before climbing into the hearse that Christine helped restore it, but did every last detail of the Challenger herself. She had only let him check her work. Dean thought of the Impala. He wondered if he was willing to let Christine help him, or if he was still going to go it alone.

He reached the passenger door and pulled it open. He settled comfortably in the black leather seat, and met Christine's concerned gaze. "I'm okay Chris," He drawled, his left arm coming up to rest on the open window sill.

Christine nodded, turning her attention to putting the car into gear and following Bobby out onto the main road. Dean could hear music coming from the radio, and curious as to what she had playing, he turned the volume knob. Glittery pop piano oozed from the speakers and Steve Perry's classic vocal reverberated through his chest. "What's in our hearts, there's never time to say, need you tonight, lover don't fade away. Like a photograph, that time won't erase…" Mr. Perry sang, "Why can't this night go on forever?"

"Seriously!" Christine muttered, reaching for the volume knob intending to click it off. Instead Dean grabbed her hand and squeezed. The song swelled and then finished with a beautiful guitar solo and piano pad. The tape clicked and stopped, signaling the end of the cassette. He let go of her hand to open the glove box. He guessed that to be a good place to find more tapes. He was right. A few dozen tapes fell out at his feet. Led Zeppelin, Def Leppard, Journey, Foreigner, Def Leppard again, The Rolling Stones, Metallica, Def Leppard, Black Sabbath, Bob Seger, Bad Company, Def Leppard, there was a lot of Leppard. He continued to browse her impressive collection, picking up the tapes that fell on the floor, placing them back in the now empty glove box. After sorting through them, he found a dusty black cassette with a piece of masking tape on one side. Neat cursive spelled out his name in black permanent marker. Intrigued that she had a mixtape with his name on it, he stole a glance at her. She was currently chewing her lip and letting her left hand drift out the window in the breeze. The element of surprise was on his side.

Christine was extremely distracted by the man sitting in her front seat. Here she was, driving her proudest achievement with the man who starred in her dreams along for the ride. Now he was rifling through her cassette collection. The mortification level was sky high. "I've collected those from the cars Bobby and I salvage." She had said when the tapes tumbled out of the glove box onto the floor.

"Somebody's a Leppard junkie." Dean commented, waving the album 'Hysteria' in front of her nose.

"Joe Elliott is a rock god." She shot back, flipping down her visor to reveal a union jack emblazoned on the mirror cover.

Dean laughed out loud. The sound startled him. His father had just died in front of him, mere hours ago, and here he was traveling down a middle of nowhere two lane highway with a beautiful woman blasting 80's hair metal, and laughing. Laughing. He wasn't sure if he should thank her or never speak to her again. The things Christine did to him and could get him to do had him terrified.

"Yeah, you sure it doesn't have anything to do with the last name?" Dean teased, popping in the mixtape he had found. The first few chords of the first track brought him back to the first time he saw her a few days ago. "Okay, I'll bite." He said, swiveling a bit in his seat so he could face her.

Shock crossed Christine's face. "Oh no, not that one!" she cried, "Please Dean!"

"Why not?" Dean teased, "It has my name on it. I think I have the right to hear it."

The mixtape she created the summer after He never came back. Sixteen. She was so naive then. It have been years since she played that tape. Christine could tell he wanted an explanation as to why she had picked each track. She swallowed hard, and gripped the steering wheel firmly. "Well, Long, Long Way From Home." She cleared her throat, "It reminds me of your dedication the family business. You were always so sure of yourself, but I could tell you wanted there to be more to life than just the hunt." She glanced sideways at him. "Don't get me wrong, you live for the hunt." She sighed, "I guess I just imagined you'd come back eventually, and this was what you were telling me when you left that night."

Dean considered her explanation. She was right. He did live for the hunt. He also thought there could be so much more to life. The track ended and the next one began. Bad Company. This girl had great taste. "I was born with a six gun in my hand " He sang, "behind a gun, I'll make my final stand."

"That's why they call me!" Christine cut in, "Bad company, I can't deny. Bad company, 'till the day I die." She continued to sing and he thought of the life they led. This song pretty much summed it up. They really were bad company for regular people with ordinary lives. Relationships could never amount to much when he was always moving from town to town, never visiting the same one twice.

"You seem to know me pretty well for not actually seeing me for ten years." Dean mused after a few more songs played and the miles rolled by. Tracks by Def Leppard, Led Zeppelin and Journey were the perfect soundtrack for the life of a hunter.

She shrugged, "I had Bobby. I also had my Dad's journal. It seems he shared your Dad's love for the classics." She grinned, feeling closer to him already. There was something about sharing this tape with him that had her a little off kilter.

Another Foreigner track. She decided to sing this one too. He settled back in the seat and listened to her belt out the familiar lyrics, "Rev on the the red line, you're on your own. Feels like a lifetime, but soon you'll know."

During the guitar solo he asked, "Why this one?"

"I imagined myself some sort of rebel while I was in high school. I never actually did anything to warrant my wild imagination, but I loved to day dream while I tinkered on cars in the salvage yard. This song and its attitude had you written all over it." She gushed. "I think I imagined you in that sexy Impala beating all the boyfriends of the girl's that made fun of me." She sighed in remembrance, " I didn't socialize much outside of class. I didn't think partying was the answer to being awkward and anxious about life. Bobby gave me that piano and taught me to work on cars. I was content with that."

They continued like this for awhile. Dean was enjoying this walk down memory lane with her. It told him more about her than simple conversation or trading likes and dislikes ever could. It was also a pleasant distraction from the reality waiting for them at Bobby's.

Another Bad Company track, this time a little more intimate. Just after a few chords, he knew exactly what song it was. He looked over a Christine and saw her cheeks redden. "Walking down this rocky road, wondering where my life is leading, rolling on to the bitter end," The lyrics of 'Ready For Love' filled the thick silence that settled in the car. The song continued and he turned down the volume a bit, listening to her singing the lyrics softly. He could tell she truly like the music. The tape was dusty, so it hadn't been played for a while, still she knew every word. Obviously this music that touched her in some way.

They rolled into the salvage yard as the track ended. The tape clicked signaling the end of their journey with impeccable timing. Dean sat still while Christine removed the tape and shoved it back into the glove box with the others. She exited the car and he hurried to catch up with her. They had parked by the house. The hearse was pulled in next to the garage across the salvage yard. Christine rounded the car and he stepped in front of her to stop her retreat. "Chris," He whispered. She looked at the ground. He slowly stepped in toward her and placed a hand on her hip and a finger under her chin to gently lift it so he could see her eyes.

Christine felt exhausted. She didn't want to look at Dean, she was afraid he would see how vulnerable she was. She was afraid he wouldn't think she was strong enough to be with someone like him. "I'm sorry," she said, sort of by default. She was sorry for making a mixtape in his memory. It seemed so childish.

"I'm not." He answered, he considered the mixtape to be somewhat sweet. She was only sixteen for crying out loud. He remembered sixteen. He thought he was one tough son of a bitch. He was really just a naive kid.

Christine relaxed a little into his embrace. His fingers had left her chin and buried themselves in her hair, pulling her deeper into his arms. "I was afraid you'd run away screaming," she whispered into his chest.

He scoffed, "I guess it could be creepy, but we were best friends." He shrugged, "music is who you are, so it makes sense you made something like a mixtape to deal with the loss." Loss. His mind suddenly flooded with the reality of what was still facing him. He pulled away a little, and steered them towards the garage. Before they left the car, Christine opened the trunk so they could grab salt and lighter fluid. Not wanting to let go of her, he settled for holding her hand as they walked toward Bobby and Sam.

Bobby noticed right away the light in Christine's eyes. She was blossoming under Dean's attention. Dean had quite the reputation with women, even at the tender ago of twenty seven, he was known for his one night stands and weekend flings. Bobby knew a talk with the eldest Winchester was in order. First, they had to bury John.

Christine let go of Dean's hand so they could help carry John to the funeral pyre. Once John was settled, Christine stepped forward and sprinkled salt over the white cloth Bobby had wrapped him in from head to toe. Sam came next with the lighter fluid, it was almost as if they were anointing John's body. They all knew this ritual by heart. Christine remembered the silver lighter she had lifted from Dean's pocket. Upon further inspection she found the initials JW carved into the lid. She pulled it out of her pocket and handed it to Dean.

His lips twisted into a sad smile as he took the lighter from her hand. He stepped forward and stared for a moment at his father's body. Dean didn't realize he was so angry until this very moment. He was angry that his Dad had made a deal. He was angry that his Dad left him, left Sammy. With practiced ease, he flicked the lighter and stared for a moment into the flame. Then he threw it at the base of the pyre, igniting the kindling and logs below. He stepped back and locked eyes with Christine across the rising flames. Her eyes were filled with tears, some spilling over and running down her flushed cheeks. He could tell she was thinking of her own father.

Christine was lost. She found herself transported back in time to sixteen years ago when she stood in this very spot, watching her father's body burn. She didn't understand then why they had salted and burned her father's body following the service at the funeral home. Her mother never stopped mumbling, "to keep us safe, to keep us safe," Now she understood burning her father's corpse insured a demon couldn't reanimate it, or that her father's spirit didn't linger here on earth. She cleared her throat, and with her eyes never leaving Dean's she softly sang.

_Carry on my wayward son_

_There__'__ll be peace when you are done_

_Lay your weary head to rest_

_Don__'__t you cry no more _

Dean fought back a sob. Christine was honoring his father with her beautiful gift of music, he was suddenly sorry that John had never heard her sing. She only sang a few lines, then he felt her hand slide gently into his. He gripped her hand as if his life depended on it. Sam was also bleary eyed and breathing heavy. Christine gave Sam a hug when she let go of Dean's hand, and headed back toward the house. Bobby also disappeared into the darkness surrounding the pyre. He guessed that they wanted to give them some space.

Sam spoke first, "Before Dad," He swallowed, "before he," his voice broke, "did he say anything to you?" He asked. Dean remained silent, tears welling up in his eyes. "about anything?" Sam sounded desperate. He was having a difficult time understanding why Dad had left them with little to no explanation.

Dean thought for a moment of how to respond to Sam. Dad had charged him with keeping Sammy safe. That settled it. "No," Dean choked out, his tears finally spilling over.

* * *

Christine stood at the kitchen sink, washing the few dishes that had accumulated there. Sam wandered in and grabbed a beer from the fridge. He settled himself at the table and opened a book that had been left there. Bobby was sitting at the desk in the den, leafing through a volume on the history of cross road demons. After a few minutes Sam stood up, placing his bottle in the recycling he said, "I'm turning in." With that he grabbed two more beers from the fridge and disappeared into the foyer and up the stairs.

Christine turned around from the sink just in time for him to go through the kitchen door. "Night Sam." He didn't stop. She sighed, turning back around to drain the water out of the sink and ring out her wash cloth.

"He'll be okay," Bobby assured her as he came into the kitchen. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed her cheek. Christine found herself remembering how Bobby had taken on the role of her father so smoothly. She would have never know he could be so affectionate from the way other hunters described Bobby. If she hadn't lived with the man, she would of assumed him to be just another crotchety old man. Instead he was a Godsend.

Christine nodded, "I'm glad they're not alone." She didn't know what she would have done if she had been alone when her father died. She may have felt that way at first, but letting Bobby in was the best decision she could have made.

Bobby nodded, "Me too." He laid a hand on her shoulder and squeezed, "I'm beat. See ya in the morning kid." He still called her that. He probably always would. Bobby took the glass of whiskey he'd been nursing at the desk and disappeared up the stairs.

Christine gazed out the kitchen window, the flames had died down, she could only see the glowing embers along the ground. She turned from the window, and poured herself a glass of whiskey. She wanted to wait up for Dean. She didn't want him to come back to the house alone. Taking her glass, the bottle of whiskey and an empty glass she went up the stairs, and into her bedroom, leaving the door open. Settling on her bed with her back agains the wall, she switched on the stereo on the bookshelf next to her. She put in a mix CD she made last week. It had landed on the track, "All I Want Is Everything." Perfect. She adjusted the volume so the words were clear, but the music remained contained to her room and waited until Dean returned.

* * *

_from the author's desk…_

_Bad Company - Bad Company - I've always thought this song to be a hunter's anthem. I wanted to honor John Winchester's memory with this tune. This chapter was really hard to write. I had a hard time finding a stopping point. I hope you enjoyed it. _

_Thank you to all the readers. Thanks for adding this to your following and/or favorite's page. I appreciate the reviews. You encourage me so much! _

_Up next we actually get down to business..._

_xoxo_

_Lumora The W_hite


	6. Move With Me Slowly

**Long, Long Way From Home**

_Previously…_

_Christine gazed out the kitchen window, the flames had died down, she could only see the glowing embers along the ground. She turned from the window, and poured herself a glass of whiskey. She wanted to wait up for Dean. She didn't want him to come back to the house alone. Taking her glass, the bottle of whiskey and an empty glass she went up the stairs, and into her bedroom. She deposited her mini bar on the nightstand and quickly changed her clothes. She decided on leaving the door open so Dean would see her light and know she was awake. Settling on her bed with her back against the wall, she switched on the stereo on the bookshelf next to her. She put in a mix CD she made last week. It had landed on the track, "All I Want Is Everything." Perfect. She adjusted the volume so the words were clear, but the music remained contained to her room and waited until Dean returned._

* * *

**Chapter Six : Move With Me Slowly**

The back door whined open and quickly fell shut with a soft thud. The night was still warm, so the exterior door had been left wide open. Dean had made sure the fire wouldn't spread and covered the pyre with a fire retardant cloth so they could collect his father's ashes when they were cooler. Dean found himself going straight for Christine's room. He found the door wide open. He hesitated a moment before filling the door frame with his form.

"Sam turned in for the night." Her voice sounded like velvet in the dimness of her room. Dean turned and quietly shut the door. Christine fought the creeping feeling of being trapped and instead forced herself to relax. 'Its only because I've wanted this so much,' She told herself.

Dean took a few steps toward her, "Bobby too?" He asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

She nodded, scooting towards him. Without hesitation she poured him a glass of whiskey from her nightstand and handed it to him. He nodded his thanks. She glanced up at him through her lashes, trying to get up the courage to somehow comfort him. Dean slid across her bed so his back was resting against the wall. Christine set her glass down and undid the laces on his boots. They hit the floor with two ominous thuds. He drew his legs up to his chest to rest his elbows on his knees.

Dean took a couple of sips from his glass to get the warmth of the whiskey in his system. He was watching Christine flit about her room, straightening piles of books and picking up discarded clothing and putting it in her laundry basket. Her room was mostly the same, the furniture hadn't changed. The walls now were painted a soft cream instead of the original pink, and instead of boy band posters everywhere, there were framed photographs of classic rock bands in concert. He wondered if she had taken them herself. Her desk was still neat, case files and huge volumes of lore replaced the girly magazines and nail polish. The angel statuettes were still there. Instead of being strewn all over her room, they found their home on a little shelf next to the window seat.

Christine knew Dean was watching her. She could feel his eyes following her around the room as she nervously tidied her already neat freak clean room. She settled down on the edge of the bed, downing the rest of her glass in one gulp. She turned towards Dean.

Dean scooted to the edge of the bed and stood up, downing the contents of his glass in one fell swoop. Christine took the glass from his hand, setting it down on the nightstand with her own. The warmth of the alcohol had her head buzzing, and her mind relaxed. She could tell Dean felt a little tipsy himself as he sauntered over to her desk.

They were too close. Dean kept telling himself that Christine wasn't someone to get too close too. He was a man of one night stands, no commitment, no strings attached. Yet here he was, in her bedroom just like old times, getting too close. He tried to focus on something other than the urge to throw her down on the bed and acquaint himself with her curves. He stood up and walked over to her desk, picking up the picture frame next to her laptop. "When was this?" He asked, turning back to find she had took his place on the bed. She had changed from the jeans and t shirt she had worn at the hospital to a tank top and cropped yoga pants. Her hair fell into her eyes, and he had to stop himself from moving so he could brush it out her face himself.

Christine let out the breath she hadn't known she was holding. She thought for sure that he was leaving when he stood up from the bed. She had tried to seem interested in more than just talking. She glanced down at what she was wearing with a frown. Her tank top showed off her chest and the cropped yoga pants showed off her toned calves and red painted toes. He asked her a question. She didn't hear a word he said.

"Chris?" He asked softly. Suddenly he was very close to her. Dean had seen the frown form on her lips just before her hair fell in front of her face. Obviously she was preoccupied with her own thoughts to hear a word he said. He took the picture frame with him, sitting back down on the edge of the bed again. Instead of moving any closer, he simply held the wooden frame out to her.

Christine looked up at the sound of her name. She met his green eyes with her own, finding concern and sadness looking back at her. There was something else too. She had only one man ever look at her that way before. Dean held the picture frame from her desk out to her. She took it, and smiled down at it. "August, 2002. I met Def Leppard on their X tour. They had just released their new album, and Bobby got me VIP backstage tickets for my birthday that year. I hung out mostly with Joe. He was so sweet. We even had a mini jam session in the Sparkle Lounge." She laughed softly at the memory.

"Sparkle Lounge?" Dean asked bewildered.

"Their backstage recording studio." She explained, leaning to the right, settling the frame on display, next to the bottle of whiskey. She sat back, and scooted over to make room on the wall for him to sit too. "The band members all take turns recording riffs, lyrics, and melodies that come to them while they're on the road. They found that they were the most inspired while performing so it made sense to have a place to take advantage of that." Half way through her explanation, She found Dean had moved even closer to her. "We were just talking, and they asked why I loved music so much. I said it was because of my Uncle Bobby, he bought me a piano when I was sixteen. That's when they insisted we jam. Joe just sat and listened while i played keyboard, Phil played acoustic and Sav grabbed a box drum." Christine's voice had faded to a whisper, her breath coming quicker than normal. Dean shifted slightly, turning his chest towards her. His back had come away from the wall, and his leg had found its way under hers. He gave into his previous urge, and brushed her hair out of her eyes, letting his fingers linger in her curls. She turned her face and kissed his open palm.

Dean was dumbfounded. Here he thought he was forcing his feelings and desire on Christine, and this whole time she was matching him step for step. She hadn't heard him because she thought he was leaving. He did almost leave. He should leave. Seeing the picture on her desk gave him a moment to test the waters, and see if he was really reading her signals right. He was definitely reading them right.

Christine couldn't believe herself. Dean's eyes widened when she had kissed his palm.

"What song did you sing?" He asked, trying to give her time to get used to being so close. He could feel the magnetic pull of desire begin to wrap its fiery hands around his soul. Christine looked away, towards the stereo.

"Move With Me Slowly." Christine whispered, a blush creeping up on her cheeks. Dean cocked an eyebrow, that title packed a little heat given their current predicament. He pulled away a little and reached for the stereo on the bookcase behind him. He placed his finger on the search button. Christine's face broke into an impossible grin. "Track 4," She murmured against her knuckles. She had this adorable habit of pressing her fist against her mouth when she was embarrassed. Dean pressed the search button until track 4 was cued up. Christine had retreated a bit, sitting up against the pillows piled up at the corner of her headboard and the wall.

_I'm lost in imagination_

_Still contemplate animation_

_I just groove on your breathing_

_I do it all for you_

Dean crawled on all fours across the bed while the first lyrics washed over them. She sure knew how to pick 'em, perfect mood music. She had broke into a fit of giggles watching him come toward her like that. He reached Christine, and swiveled to a sitting position on the wall beside her, pulling her into his lap and back into the pillowed corner. She let out a little surprised squeak, her hands gripping the front of his plaid shirt.

_You got a problem with your boyfriend_

_He don't squeeze you right_

_He got you face down and waiting baby_

_Keep you waiting all night, so do me a favor_

_Won't you move with me slowly_

_Get too close to me_

_Move with me slowly_

_Just like we're meant to be_

_Just like we're meant to be_

Dean was enjoying watching her squirm. She kept biting her lip, making him want to do it for her. He leaned closer to her, pulling her forward so their noses brushed and he could feel her warm breath fanning his lips. "Dean," She whispered, biting her lip again, "I- uh."

He pulled back just enough so their noses weren't touching anymore. "Spit it out sweetheart, I won't bite," Dean said softly, pressing a kiss just below her ear lobe, "hard." He whispered in her ear.

She smiled a little at that, "Well," she swallowed, "I don't know how, um. I've never, well-"

Dean's eyes widened in shock. She'd never been kissed. Never been- "What?" Dean said before he could stop himself. Christine tried to wiggled out of his arms. "Whoa, whoa, whoa!" He chided, gripping her upper arms gently but firmly. He could tell she thought he was disappointed. So she did know about his reputation. "I'm just surprised is all." He explained, "I'm not upset, just surprised."

Christine froze, he wasn't upset. "I'm sorry." She said as a reflex, more than an actual apology.

He smiled, "I'm not." He answered, just like when she apologized for making the mix tape. Christine relaxed back into Dean's arms. He let her settle a minute, then pulled her closer, closer until their noses were brushing.

Christine could feel the electricity crackling between them. She felt hyper aware of Dean's elevated heartbeat. She couldn't believe this was actually happening.

Dean cradled the back of her head in his palm, his other hand settling at her hip to hold her firmly against him. "Relax," He whispered. The hum of the music only served as a tangible reminder of the hum of attraction he could feel between them. "Do you feel it?" He asked, brushing his lips against her cheek.

She nodded, inching her mouth closer to his. Unable to help herself, she came closer still, tentatively touching her lips to his.

Dean didn't move at first. He didn't want to spook her. Then she touched her lips to his, and all thought fled. He could feel the hunger rising up inside his chest, the desire to consume her rearing its head. He applied slightly more pressure, tilting his head slightly to get better access to her mouth. As he deepened the kiss, Christine gave a small innocent whimper.

Christine heard a soft whimper, and realized it was herself. She pulled away, breaking contact with his lips. Her eyes had gone wide, and she was eating her knuckles again. She didn't know what came over her. She had actually kissed him, instead of the other way around. Thankfully he had responded, or she wouldn't died from embarrassment.

Dean would have usually lost patience by now. He usually went for women with at least a little experience. Christine was different. For starters, they had history. Years of her growing up under Bobby's roof and his sad dropping him and Sammy off for days at a time. They were always together, scheming, tinkering on cars, getting into loads of trouble. He was finding it to be a huge turn on that he was the only person to be with her this way. He had introduced her to the world of hunting, and now he was with her again on the road of discovery and adventure. "C'mere Chris," He spoke into the near darkness, arms spread wide, only her white Christmas lights strung over the single large window remained.

Christine settled herself against Dean's chest again. There was something endearing about the way he said her name. He wasn't running away screaming like she thought he would. He wasn't even cracking jokes, the reality of what was happening between them was extremely sobering. He smoothed her hair away from her face, and pulled her closer, turning them a little so he could lay her back against the pillows. Dean stared down at the woman in his arms. He felt the weight of the moment crash down on his shoulders. No other man had kissed her, let alone had the privilege of laying her out on her bed. He didn't want to disappoint her fantasies.

Christine decided to just go with her instincts. She reached up, and pulled his head so his ear came down to her mouth, "Show me," Christine whispered, her nails teasing the back of his neck and hairline.

Dean was being consumed by the delicious way her body arched to meet his. She shattered all his preconceived notions about innocence. Her eyes flashed with a hunger that equally matched his own. He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers once again. The world seemed to fade around them, the crickets softly serenading the night, the chiming of the cuckoo clock downstairs, all of it ceased. All that existed were her sweet, soft lips. He let a hand wander, coming up from her hip to run his fingers along her collarbone. Christine let out a little gasp at the new contact, and Dean took advantage of it, sliding his tongue gently between her parted lips. She didn't pull away this time, instead after a little coaxing, she began to move her tongue to dance with his own. Dean couldn't help the moan that escaped his lips. Her response left him breathless. It had been a long time that a woman had felt this good. He didn't know kissing could be quite like that. He rolled off her, giving his arms a rest and pulled her flush against his body so they were lying side by side, legs intertwined.

Christine was losing herself in the way Dean had wrapped her up, holding her possessively against him and plundered her mouth with his tongue. The man knew how to kiss. She had watched plenty of chick flicks at sleepovers to understand that kissing was an art. Dean was a master.

They both pulled back a little for a few deep breaths. Christine rested her head in the crook of Dean's neck, breathing in the scent of his skin. "Wow," She whispered with a giggle. She felt Dean nod his head. She rose so she straddled his hips, and put her hands on his chest.

"You like it up there?" He asked, watching her eyes close in pleasure. She nodded, and arched her back, pushing her chest out. Suddenly he sat up, so she was sitting atop his crossed folded thighs, her legs curing around his back. Christine buried her fingers in Dean's short hair, drawing his mouth back to her own. She didn't know kissing could be this fun. Deans arms held her firmly to his chest, enjoying the feel of her pressed against his body.

Christine broke the kiss only for the sake of air. She was having a hard time remembering to breathe while losing herself in Dean's warm embrace. She rested her forehead against his and panted, "You are incredible."

Dean smiled, easing her back down onto the bed, he knew if they didn't quit now, they weren't going to quit at all. There was something about the newness of their relationship that didn't warrant sex. Usually he'd have no problem going there. The way Christine looked at him told him she wouldn't mind the invasion, but he hesitated to rush. He wanted to enjoy the innocence for once. There was something peaceful in the way she responded to him, held on to him. No expectations formed by other lovers driving her response. Selfless, that was the word he was looking for. Of course they were both needy, but there was a give and take he hadn't experienced before. He wanted to relish the novelty for once, so sue him. "You are beautiful." He murmured, as she untangled herself from his arms, standing up.

She grabbed his hands and helped him to his feet. She pushed his green and brown plaid over shirt off his shoulders, folding it over her desk chair. Then before she could lose her nerve, she went for his belt buckle.

Dean could tell she was nervous. He gladly let her strip him of his shirt, but stilled her hands at his belt buckle with his own. "Whoa there tiger." He whispered huskily, "I'll take care of that." He was still showing evidence of their little romp. Didn't want to scare the poor girl just yet.

"I'm not stupid Dean," She protested, feeling like she was doing something wrong.

"Chris," Dean pulled her hands up to his mouth and kissed her knuckles, "You aren't doing anything wrong. I'm trying to be good to you. It's not fair for me to waltz in here and steal your first kiss and your virtue all in one night."

"You're not stealing it, I want to be with you." Christine whispered, pressing her knuckles to her lips, her gaze at her feet.

"Son of a bitch," He swore. "I want to be with you too." He sighed, "With my Dad," He swallowed hard, "passing and all, I'm just not sure, uh. Well, I guess I just need-" His voice broke. His eyes glistened in the dark.

Christine's eyes began to fill with tears when his voice broke. "some time," She finished for him, "Honestly Dean, I need time too." She let go of his shirt and stepped from his arms. She pulled back the covers and sat on the edge of the bed. "Will you stay?" She asked in a tiny whisper. If he hadn't been looking at her, he would have missed it.

Dean found himself undoing his belt buckle. His arousal had thankfully subsided for the moment and he stepped out of his jeans, hanging them on the chair with his shirt. Christine slid under the covers and made room for him in the bed. He knelt down and unplugged the light string before joining her on the bed. She was still sitting up, so he took the opportunity to pull her to him and kiss her thoroughly. He wanted to reassure her that she was desired, and wanted. "Always," He answered her earlier question. "Thank you." He said, laying down and pulling the covers up over them.

She had never felt so loved in all her life. "I think I should be thanking you, Dean." She giggled, "You're one hell of a kisser." Christine settled down with her head on his chest, one leg thrown over his. Dean's chest rumbled with a deep chuckle in response to her complement. Her fingers splayed along his jaw, playfully scratching at his five o'clock shadow. He grunted in pleasure and closed his eyes. Just like that fateful night he left, sleep came for him swiftly.

* * *

_from the author__'__s desk__…_

_Move With Me Slowly - Def Leppard - I love Def Leppard, its painfully obvious by now isn__'__t it! This is a B-Side to the single, __"__All I Want Is Everything__" __from DL__'__s album, Slang. Not very popular among Leppard junkies like myself, but I appreciate their ability to stay away from the __"__grunge__" __that held 90__'__s music down from reaching its potential. It__'__s a fun track that I think is great for this scene. _

_*Whew* I am so glad that chapter is out of the way! I have spent so much time trying to keep Dean in character, while letting my OFC influence him in ways that would change his usual MO that I__'__m a little afraid I failed. _

_Well, onward we go. Time to rebuild the Impala me thinks! _

_xoxo_

_Lumora The White_


	7. Traveling Riverside Blues

**Long, Long Way From Home **

_Previously…_

"_Son of a bitch,__"_ _He swore. "__I want to be with you too.__"_ _He sighed, __"__With my Dad,__"_ _He swallowed hard, __"__passing and all, I__'__m just not sure, uh. Well, I guess I just need-__"_ _His voice broke. His eyes glistened in the dark. _

_Christine__'__s eyes began to fill with tears when his voice broke. __"__some time,__"_ _She finished for him, __"__Honestly Dean, I need time too.__"_ _She let go of his shirt and stepped from his arms. She pulled back the covers and sat on the edge of the bed. __"__Will you stay?__"_ _She asked in a tiny whisper. If he hadn__'__t been looking at her, he would have missed it. _

_Dean found himself undoing his belt buckle. His arousal had thankfully subsided for the moment and he stepped out of his jeans, hanging them on the chair with his shirt. Christine slid under the covers and made room for him in the bed. He knelt down and unplugged the light string before joining her on the bed. She was still sitting up, so he took the opportunity to pull her to him and kiss her thoroughly. He wanted to reassure her that she was desired, and wanted. __"__Always,__"_ _He answered her earlier question. __"__Thank you.__"_ _He said, laying down and pulling the covers up over them._

_She had never felt so loved in all her life. __"__I think I should be thanking you, Dean.__"_ _She giggled, __"__You__'__re one hell of a kisser.__"_ _Christine settled down with her head on his chest, one leg thrown over his. Dean__'__s chest rumbled with a deep chuckle in response to her complement. Her fingers splayed along his jaw, playfully scratching at his five o__'__clock shadow. He grunted in pleasure and closed his eyes. Just like that fateful night he left, sleep came for him swiftly._

* * *

**Chapter Seven : Traveling Riverside Blues**

Dean woke to a empty bed. He blinked at the empty space beside him, wondering how the hell Christine had managed to wiggle out from between him and the wall and he hadn't felt it. He rose to a sitting position and looked at the clock. 0800. Suddenly the bedroom door flew open and Christine burst into the room.

"Oh, you're awake!" She exclaimed excitedly, "Fantastic!" She was wearing a red tank top, well worn jeans, studded belt and work boots. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and she wore a red bandana as a headband, the tied ends sticking up like antennae. Her nose had a grease swipe, just above the silver hoop she wore in her left nostril. A second spot on her forehead sported evidence of her working out in the garage.

"I'm awake alright," Dean mumbled, flopping back down on the bed.

She launched full force into an explanation of what she had been doing that morning, "I've got the Impala on jack stands, wasn't easy since the frame's bent. I have all the doors laid out together, and the seats are all in the garage awaiting evaluation. What's left of the engine's out on the cherry picker. The engine is pretty much destroyed, but I wanted you to take a look at it before we just scrapped it-"

"We?" Dean asked, venom dripping into his voice. He sat up again, this time he threw back the covers and crossed the room to her desk.

The deadliness in Dean's voice stopped her cold in her tracks. Dean stepped into his jeans and boots. Christine held out his plaid shirt, and he jerked it from her grasp. His eyes bore into hers for a split second, blown wide with anger. He disappeared into her bathroom, the door slamming shut, shaking a few pictures on the adjacent wall. Christine collapsed, sitting on the edge of the bed, cradling her head in her hands, nose to her knees. What was she going to say to make it better.

Dean stared hard at his reflection in the mirror. He had made quick work of emptying his bladder, and cleansing his hands. He splashed cold water on his face, letting it run down his cheeks back into the sink. He knew Chris was only trying to help. Losing his father, and losing the Impala too was almost like dying. That car was more than just a car, he named it for crying out loud. That car always made sense to him. When the rest of the world couldn't be explained, everything had order and a solution when it came to that machine. That car meant they weren't completely alone without Dad. It was family. It was home. He pushed off the counter and yanked open the door.

Christine tried really hard to not cry. A few tears escaped her eyes, and her shoulders shook a little from the effort of not relenting into total meltdown.

Dean emerged from the bathroom, his chest heaving. "We?" He asked again, this time, the coldness had been replaced with piping hot rage.

Christine took a deep breath and peered up at Dean through her fingers. She sniffled and stood up, wiping her nose on her knuckles, crossing her arms.

"Sounds like to me that you have been quite busy this morning. Doesn't sound like there's a 'we' to me." Dean spat, staring at her for a moment, almost as if he wanted her to start speaking so he could just cut her off. Christine took the bait, hook, line and sinker.

"Of course there is!" She shouted, crossing the room to stand in front of him. "All I'm doing is laying things out so you can-"

"So I can tell you how good of a job you've done?" Dean mocked, "That car means the world to me Christine! How could you just assume-"

It was his turn to be cut off, "Of course I know what that car means to you Dean!" She shouted, "You practically make love to the thing!" Dean scoffed, shaking his head, turning to go, this was going nowhere. She stepped forward, placing a hand on his shoulder to stop him from leaving. Her voice dropped down to a husky tone, breaking a little from the previous effort of shouting, "Seriously Dean," He turned toward her, resting his shoulder against the door frame, recrossing his arms. He raised his eyebrows at her, begging her to continue. She took a sharp breath and paced the floor in front of him, talking with her hands, "I know she's more than just the means to criss cross this country year after year. She's part of you." She stole a glance his way, his eyes glittered in the morning sun back at her. Before she lost her nerve she continued, "Baby is special. She's home. She's a piece of your father you can hold on to forever. Well, assuming we manage to fix her."

Dean watched her pace back and forth, his anger continuing to boil. She really did know him. It was still terrifying. Ten years had passed and yet, here they were thick as thieves all over again. His anger began to subside, instead he found himself amused by her antics. Her hair bounced at an alarmingly attractive rate, and her hips swaying as she paced drove him crazy. Forget the fight they were having, he was now fighting everything within himself not just to devour the sexy creature before him.

Christine clapped her hands over her mouth when she realized she had said "we," again.

Dean clicked his tongue in disapproval, "There's that 'we' again." He came toward Christine, slowly backing her up against her desk. His hands rested on the smooth wood surface, pinning her between his body and the piece of furniture. "I think _we__'__re _going to have to come up with some punishment." His eyes bore into hers, this time they were blown wide with excitement instead of anger.

"Punishment?" Christine squeaked. Dean's eyes had taken on the light she had seen last night, just before he had kissed her the second time.

Dean nodded, "Mmm hmm." He practically growled at her, gathering her up in his arms before she could protest, depositing on her the desk top, forcing her to wrap her legs around his waist. Her desk sat unusually high, and he took full advantage of it. Bobby found it at an estate sale for her when she moved in ten years earlier. The 'desk' was a workbench that someone had brilliantly added a hutch to, giving the instinctively cool bar height surface functionality.

Christine gripped the front of Dean's t-shirt for support, her mouth fell open in a gasp at the feel of him pressing against her, her eyes locking with his. Dean's hands left her shoulders, cradling her head, positioning her just the right way so he could kiss her thoroughly.

Dean wanted to make Christine feel as crazy as he felt. It wasn't fair how innocently she turned him on. The smallest thing made would make his blood run hot, and his jeans tighten just so. Here he was grieving his father, trying to honor him by rebuilding the Impala, and all he wanted to do was to feel Christine against his body, her mouth opened for him, her body his for the taking.

Christine was sure that she was on fire. She felt as if the fire that had started burning in her belly when she first hugged Dean in the library, had spread to every part of her body. She let out a whimper as Dean bit down on her lower lip, it felt as if his hands were everywhere at once. As suddenly as he had assaulted her, not that she minded, he pulled away. Christine kept her eyes closed, her fingers coming up to feel her swollen lips, reveling in the feeling of being thoroughly kissed by Dean Winchester. "Dean," She whispered with a giggle, reaching out in front of her. No response. No Dean. Her eyes flew open as the sound of boots thudding down the stairs reached her ears. She took a deep breath and raced to the stairs. "Dean Winchester!" She shouted, "You get back here and finish what you started! " She reached the landing and caught up with him in the kitchen, spearing him the chest with her forefinger, "You can't just kiss me like that and-" Bobby cleared his throat cutting her off. Obviously she thought he was still out in the garage.

Bobby had greeted Dean warmly when had entered the kitchen. He was no fool. He knew the boy had spent the night in Christine's bed. Despite his wariness of the two kids exploring a romantic relationship, he knew Dean needed support. Maybe Christine could give him that.

Christine whirled around, and came face to face with Bobby. "Hi," She squeaked while flushing a deep red from hairline to throat. "I thought you were o-out i-in the-"

"Garage?" Bobby finished for her, his face splitting into an amused grin. "Guess I'm not." He said reminiscent of her infamous retort the night she discovered the world of the supernatural. She also used it a few times during her semi rebellious phase in high school. He winked at her, placing a hand on her shoulder as he moved past her out of the kitchen.

Christine turned back to Dean to find him leaning against the counter and sipping a steaming mug of coffee. He handed her a steaming mug of her own, and a plate of scrambled eggs. Christine cocked an eyebrow, "Bobby?" She asked, grabbing a seat at the eat in kitchen table. Bobby must have stayed in the kitchen instead of heading out to the garage like he said he was going to do when she came back to the house a short while ago.

Dean sat across from her, "Bobby," He confirmed, forcing himself not to smile at the enthusiastic way she dug into her plate. He did appreciate a woman with an appetite.

The pair ate in companionable silence. Christine found herself scarfing down breakfast, not caring that the man in front of her could possibly be turned off by her wolfish behavior. It was like old times, except now Dean knew the helplessness of losing a parent. Dean finished first and left his plate in the sink. He flashed her a small smile before heading out the house. Christine huffed out a short breath and sat back in her chair. She just hoped after seeing Baby he would speak to her again.

Finished with her plate, Christine rinsed it in sink, setting it and her empty mug in the dishwasher she insisted Bobby install a few years back. She chanced a glance out the window to the salvage yard. Dean had found a pair of work gloves and was inspecting the engine. Before she could lose her courage, Christine headed out to the yard.

Dean felt like his heart was being ripped from his chest. Baby was destroyed. The frame was bent just behind the driver's door, and the engine, well it looked like a complete rebuild was in order. Christine had done an amazing job of laying everything out and getting it ready to be evaluated. Sam was going to be no help under the car, so he knew Christine or Bobby were his best bet for getting Baby running again. He heard footsteps approaching and turned to find Christine carrying a pair of creepers from the garage. He met her a few steps from the workbench she had wheeled out from the garage. He silently took the equipment from her, and set them both on the ground.

"Dean," She spoke after watching him return to inspecting the ruined engine. "I need to show you something." She said quietly, not wanting a reprise of this morning's outburst.

He took a breath and studied her for a moment. "You're right. The engine's ruined. The frame's bent, the suspensions all twisted to hell." He kicked the passenger door, "Son of a bitch!" He swore, "What could you possible show me that could make this better, huh?"

It was her turn to stare at him for a moment. She was debating on whether to show him the treasure trove Bobby had found yesterday morning, or let him flounder a bit more. She chose the former. "We've got a '67 Impala that's been exposed to the elements, but at least the sheet metal is straight and the frame isn't bent. The interior is crap, but the suspension is solid and I can order the other parts you need in town." Christine started to walk away, leading Dean towards the other car she had Bobby tow to where Baby was. She pulled off the tarp she had thrown over it yesterday, revealing a solid car that looked like it needed a little TLC and a good coat of paint.

Dean didn't show the relief he felt on his face. "Sure," He shrugged, "only what she needs." Christine nodded in agreement. He turned away from Christine to get to work on Baby. He grabbed a few wrenches, and settled himself on one of the creepers, and slid under the car. Who was he kidding? He stared up at the mangled undercarriage of the Impala with a heavy heart. Baby needed a complete rebuild, and this little diamond in the rough was their saving grace.

Christine let him be, she'd wait for him to ask for her help. She didn't want to intrude on his way of moving on and honoring his father. Instead of going back to the house, she headed to the garage where the interior had been stashed. Both bench seats miraculously didn't have any tears in the leather. The hardest part was removing the blood stains. The front seat didn't have many stains, the passenger side was the worst from the bullet John took in his right leg. She made short work of the front seat, letting it dry in the morning sun streaming through the main garage door. The back seat proved to be more of a hassle. Dean lost a lot of blood during the crash. It was one of the reasons he had slipped into a coma so quickly.

A couple of hours of cleaning and Christine had both seats gleaming. Cleaning Dean's blood off the seat proved to be more emotionally taxing that she had originally anticipated. Instead of trying to figure out what the doors needed, she headed back up to the house. The clock in the garage read 12:25 PM. Considering how long she had been up, she was long over due for a pit stop. She emerged from the garage into the blinding sunshine, catching sight of her prized Roxy. The car didn't gleam like it should under the cloudless sky. Dust and mud from the journey to St. Cloud and back caked the under belly and quarter panels. She passed the car, giving it a loving caress along the trunk lid, blowing a kiss of promise to give her a bath this afternoon.

Dean had made significant progress on Baby. All the suspension had been stripped as well as the sheet metal. The skeleton didn't look that bad once it had been cleared of the carnage. He discovered the frame wasn't bent like they originally thought. The chassis was somehow still straight, just the door frame was crumpled from the impact. The truck must have sat just a few inches too high for the impact to bend the foundation. He glanced at his watch, polishing off the last water bottle he snagged from the fridge. 12:26 PM. He turned towards the sound of footsteps coming from the garage. Christine emerged from the doorway, stopping in front of her prized Challenger. He watched curiously as she walked along the rear of the car, following the edge of the trunk lid with her palm, almost like a lover's caress. His lips twisted into a wry smile as she blew the car a kiss, and sauntered on her way, hips swaying softly to some song she hummed under her breath. Christine shared his insanity alright. "Time for a break already?" He teased, falling into step beside her as they approached the back porch.

"I feel like I could eat a horse!" She laughed, climbing up the steps and yanking open the screen door. Dean held it open for her, and followed her inside. She stopped just inside the door, bent over and unlaced her work boots. Dean choked on the groan that escaped his throat at the sight of her bent over like that. This woman was going to be the death of him. He followed suit, stripping off his boots and joined her at the sink in the kitchen. He glanced sideways at her, discovering red blooming across her cheek. He quickly grabbed her shoulders to look at her full on.

"Are you hurt?" He asked, his still soapy fingers skimming over the red marks on her cheek. To his surprise the color melted at his touch.

"No, Dean!" Christine exclaimed covering his fingers with her own, "I've been cleaning the seats. I must have splashed some of the water on my face." Understanding flickered across his face. Those seats were probably full of blood. He was been told that he almost bled out at the scene. It was practically a miracle he survived the trip to the hospital. He took up the wash cloth and gently cleaned the red stain from her skin. Christine released her grip on his shirt to reach up fluff his hair a bit, since it had wilted from being under the car. Dean returned the wash cloth to the sink and dried his hands. He turned to find Christine bent over again, this time she was fishing out ingredients for sandwiches from the fridge.

"Turkey sandwiches sound good?" She asked, placing a loaf of bread on the counter and diving back into the fridge for the meat and cheese. She set the rest of the ingredients on the counter and grabbed Dean a beer from the bottom shelf, closing the door with her hip.

Dean cleared his throat. "Sure," He choked out, sitting down at the table, cracking open the beer she handed him.

Christine moved around the kitchen with practiced ease. She made quick work of the sandwiches, forming a little assembly line. She made two extra, she knew Bobby would be hungry, and Sam would be too, even if he didn't feel much like eating at the moment. After slicing some apples she placed a sandwich in front of Dean, and one at the place opposite him at the table, a plate of apple slices between them. "I'll be right back," She said, balancing two plates that held the sandwiches and apple slices in one hand and grabbed two beers and two waters with the other. She disappeared up the stairs first. Sam had holed up his room with some books.

Dean took a bite of an apple slice as he heard his brother thank her, and a few moments later, she descended the stairs and opened the basement door with her hip. She gave him a saucy wink just before she disappeared down the steps. He didn't have to wait long to hear Bobby exclaim his thanks. Suddenly he was back to eating peanut butter banana sandwiches and apple slices on Bobby's back porch while the sunset. Christine's golden hair was plaited neatly into two braids that barely brushed her shoulders. Her pretty mouth was open mid laugh and he was grinning from ear to ear. He was telling her about the first time his Dad had taken him shooting. Even his twelve year old self knew there was something special about her. He remembered how much he wanted to be near Christine and share in her world. He loved her smile and her laugh. He would do almost anything to get her to giggle and grin just because of him. Dusk crept up on the house, lightning bugs appearing at the edge of the woods along the house.

"Dean," Christine whispered, sliding into her chair across from him. She could tell Dean had lost himself in a memory.

Dean blinked a few times, realizing that Christine had returned. "Sorry," He sniffed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He forced a smile and sighed. If she only knew how much he thought about her.

"Don't be," Christine said softly, covering his hand that rested on the table top with her own. Staring into his eyes for a moment, she saw the familiar look of helplessness that comes from losing a parent. Granted, her mother was still alive, but she knew the feeling. Dean at least had the chance to avenge his father. She let go, picked up a few apple slices and deposited them on her plate.

They ate in silence for a few moments. Dean's thoughts were a jumble of what Baby needed and how he was going to ask the woman across from him for help without actually asking for help. He sighed, as he swallowed his last bite of sandwich. Christine looked up from the newspaper she was skimming her brow lifted in question. He cleared his throat, "Chris, uh," he swallowed again, "could you, um maybe, well-"

"Take a look at the rest of the interior?" She offered, trying to help him out while trying to play it safe. He seemed to be trying really hard to ask for her help without it seeming like he was actually asking for help.

"Yeah," Dean sighed with relief, that was remarkably easier than he had imagined. He had finished his food, and took the plate to the sink. "I remember what Cherry Pie looked like before you fixed her up." Bobby had acquired the two toned 1972 Dodge Challenger the fall before his falling out with John. Christine had decided then that she wanted to restore the car, she had proudly showed it to Dean. He called it, 'Cherry Pie'. She naively went along with it. Now that she was older, she took severe offense to that reference. Her pride and joy wasn't _only_ sex on wheels. Roxy definitely had sex appeal, but she was also her best friend.

Dean turned around to face her, polishing off the beer in his hand, leaning against the counter.

"Still calling her that, huh?" Christine played it cool, not wanting a repeat of this morning's fight.

"What?" Dean asked aloof, "I love pie." He said placing the beer bottle in the recycling bin.

"Uh, huh." Christine answered, rinsing her plate and placing them both in the dishwasher. "Speaking of 'Cherry Pie', I'm going to give her a bath before my gig tonight." She was bent over again in the fridge, this time Dean was unable to help himself. He let out a grunt of approval. Christine straightened, handing him a bottle, "Did you just-"

"Check out your ass?" Dean finished for her, backing her up against the now closed refrigerator door. "You have been bending over like that all damn day." He growled. Dean released her for just a second to shift his hands from her shoulders to what she presumed to be her waist and she took the window. She ducked grabbed his right arm and slammed him against the fridge, pinning his arm behind his back. "Son of a bitch!" He yelped in protest.

"Tell you what, I won't tell Bobby you've been checking out my ass if," She thought for a moment, "If you come to my gig tonight." She knew going out to a bar was the last thing Dean wanted to do right now. He wanted to bury himself in Baby until she was one solid piece again. Dean barked a laugh that quickly turned into a wince of pain as Christine tweaked his arm a bit. "I'm serious." She purred into his ear.

Dean nodded and Christine released him. He rubbed his arm while Christine disappeared through the kitchen door and out of the house. How could he have underestimated her so much? He knew from talking with other hunters that Christine Elliott was one of the best damn hunters around. Most people that worked with her trusted her, but they all agreed she was one hell of a force to be reckoned with. He picked up the bottle of water Christine handed him from the floor where it had landed during their little scuffle. Regardless of how he felt about going out at the moment, he did want to see Christine play. He wondered if she had a band or flew solo. The clock in the hallway struck 2:00PM. Only a few hours left until he would have to shower and head out. He took a deep breath and sighed. He had work to do.

* * *

_from the author__'__s desk__…_

_Traveling Riverside Blues - Led Zeppelin - Most of you know this to be Dean__'__s favorite song, rather its in a tie with another LZ master piece, Ramble On. I personally favor this song for Dean and Christine. It just suits them better than the latter._

_Cherry Pie - Warrant - This song is not what Christine wants her car's anthem to be. Dean's only teasing of course, but we may see him use this to rile her up in the future..._

_The next chapter will give you a peak into the Christine's world. It's a little detour, but we'll get back on track and head out to the Roadhouse and meet Ellen and Jo. Up next is, Small Town. _

_xoxo_

_Lumora The White_


	8. Small Town

**Long, Long Way From Home**

_Previously__…_

"_Uh, huh.__" __Christine answered, rinsing her plate and placing them both in the dishwasher. __"__Speaking of __'__Cherry Pie__'__, I__'__m going to give her a bath before my gig tonight.__" __She was bent over again in the fridge, this time Dean was unable to help himself. He let out a grunt of approval. Christine straightened, handing him a bottle, __"__Did you just-__"_

"_Check out your ass?__" __Dean finished for her, backing her up against the now closed refrigerator door. __"__You have been bending over like that all damn day.__" __He growled. Dean released her for just a second to shift his hands from her shoulders to what she presumed to be her waist and she took the window. She ducked and grabbed his right arm and slammed him against the fridge, pinning his arm behind his back. __"__Son of a bitch!__" __He yelped in protest._

"_Tell you what, I won__'__t tell Bobby you__'__ve been checking out my ass if,__" __She thought for a moment, __"__If you come to my gig tonight.__" __She knew going out to a bar was the last thing Dean wanted to do right now. He wanted to bury himself in Baby until she was one solid piece again. Dean barked a laugh that quickly turned into a wince of pain as Christine tweaked his arm a bit. __"__I__'__m serious.__" __She purred into his ear. _

_Dean nodded and Christine released him. He rubbed his arm while Christine disappeared through the kitchen door and out of the house. How could he have underestimated her so much? He knew from talking with other hunters that Christine Elliott was one of the best damn hunters around. Most people that worked with her trusted her, but they all agreed she was one hell of a force to be reckoned with. He picked up the bottle of water Christine handed him from the floor where it had landed during their little scuffle. Regardless of how he felt about going out at the moment, he did want to see Christine play. He wondered if she had a band or flew solo. The clock in the hallway struck 2:00PM. Only a few hours left until he would have to shower and head out. He took a deep breath and sighed. He had work to do._

* * *

**Chapter 8 : Small Town**

Saying the bar was crowed was understatement of the year. He'd never seen the place so full. They had plenty of meals here with Bobby when Dad was away. A few of the men at the bar had their girls sit on their laps so they all had a place to sit between sets. He was trying to politely shrug off the attention of two fairly attractive blonde women who had cuddled up to him at the bar. He turned away from them towards the restrooms only to have the breath knocked from his lungs. Christine emerged from the back room, a single piece of paper in her hand. Her black sleeveless top and jeans hugged her in all the right places, but covered most of her skin, adding allure and mystery to her overall look. He could see shiny silver buckles on her black boots poking out from under the bottom of her jeans, they matched the belt she wore at her waist. Her golden hair fell free almost to her waist, some baby curls clinging to her temples from the heat of the room. Her eye make up was darker than he had ever seen it, and she wore classic red lipstick to match her painted nails. He felt the heated gaze of most the men around him as she snaked her way through the crowd to him at the bar.

Christine almost lost her nerve when she spotted Dean at the bar. Two busty blondes surrounded him, thankfully he had not turned to face them. Instead he swiveled around to her direction when someone let loose a whistle of approval. She didn't think he would actually come. Another glance around and she found Sam and Bobby at a table near the stage. They both raised their beers to her and continued with their conversation. Dean's eyes never left her as she snaked her way to the bar. She slid in sideways to face him, resting her right elbow on the bar, slapping the piece of paper on the surface. She leaned into him and whispered in his ear, "Sorry about pinning you against the fridge earlier, I think I just reacted on pure instinct." She pulled back and slammed the shot of tequila the bartender set before her.

Dean caught sight of Sam and Bobby at the table near the stage over Christine's head. Thankfully the two blonde bimbos had removed themselves from his company. Christine took their place, and whispered in his ear. He knew she had merely reacted to the palpable tension between them. If she really wanted to hurt him, she was more than capable. Plus, it was mildly fun to see her use the training he started with her all those years ago. "Nothing to worry about sweetheart," He drawled, knocking back the rest of the whiskey in his glass.

"Swayze!" Christine flagged down the bartender, and turned back to Dean.

"Swayze?" He asked, curious as to the guy's name.

"Just a nickname." Christine explained, flashing a bright smile at the bartender, "Tony's a former ballroom dancing champion. He even teaches dancing to the old ladies at the Y." She waggled her eyebrows and giggled.

Tony, aka 'Swayze' arrived with two glasses of whiskey. Dean nodded his thanks and wrapped his fingers around the cut glass tumbler, watching the bubbles rise to the top. He turned his attention to the piece of paper Christine placed on the bar. He read:

**Elliott and The Breakaway Creation**

**Set List - 8pm**

_Dirty Laundry - Chris_

_The Heat Is On - (Richie on Sax) - Joel_

_Born To Run (DannySUBWendy) - Chris_

_Long, Long Way From Home - Chris_

_Man In The Wilderness - Chris_

_Bad Company - Joel/Chris_

_Dancing In The Dark (Electric) - Chris_

_**15 MIN BREAK **_

_Turn The Page (Richie on Sax) - Chris_

_Simple Man - (Bad Company NOT Skynyrd) - Joel/Chris_

_Pour Some Sugar On Me (Electric) - Chris_

_Desperado (Acoustic) - Chris_

_Move With Me Slowly - Chris_

_Pink Houses - Chris_

_Night Moves - Joel_

_**ENCORE **_

_Crumblin__' __Down (Electric) - Chris _

He looked up from the piece of paper to find Chris even closer to him. "See anything you like?" Christine gazed up at him, bitting her lip.

"Elliott and The Breakaway Creation?" He inquired, taking a sip of whiskey, wondering why he wasn't smearing her lipstick instead.

Christine gave a disappointed sigh, apparently she thought he should be smearing her lipstick too, "Dean!" She exclaimed, play punching him in arm. He was always side stepping her questions like that.

Dean cracked a smile, "The set looks good." He said soberly, trying to encourager her, "I'm looking forward to the second half, you've got it stacked pretty good." He studied her a moment, then put his arm around her and drew her in close so he could whisper in her ear, "I love the outfit,"

"Really?" Christine said hopefully, "Joel told me I looked like a schoolmarm."

Dean chuckled at that. "Schoolmarm? I wouldn't go that far." He told himself later he would show her how sexy she really looked.

Joel Lane, the lead electric guitarist and lead male vocalist for the Elliott and The Breakaway Creation wandered into the main bar room. Fifteen minutes left until their set and he couldn't find Christine anywhere. He didn't believe Christine had people here tonight other than Bobby. She was probably talking to the opening band, she was always making connections to further their career. Instead of a musician she was talking to a patron at the bar. A tall, broad shouldered man had his arm around her. She was clearly enjoying his attention by the pretty blush across her cheeks. Christine was gorgeous, but you really couldn't tell how smoking hot she was with all the covering up she did. He tried to get Christine to show a little more skin on stage, but it didn't seem to matter to her or the fans. Never mind his motives weren't purely professional. They were growing in popularity in the local bar scene and he didn't want to lose her to another band on the circuit. Christine was magic, her ability to cover a song was uncanny. She could stay true to the song's original grit all the while making it her very own. He didn't want to lose that. If he was honest he didn't want to lose her at all.

"Christine?" Joel inquired, stepping up the pair at the bar.

"Joel!" She exclaimed placing a hand on the stranger's shoulder, "This is Dean Winchester." Joel's eyes widened, THE Dean Winchester? He thought this guy was Christine's imaginary friend until a few years ago. Then he finds out from his Dad that the Winchesters are the scariest son of a bitches in the business and Christine grew up having playdates with them!

Dean extended his hand and Joel took it cautiously. "Dean, this is Joel Lane. He's the lead guitarist and lead male vocals for-"

"Elliott and the Breakaway Creation." Dean finished for her, letting go of Joel's hand, his arm remaining around Christine the whole time.

"We really have to go Christine," Joel pushed, possessively grabbing her upper arm. Dean took note of the man's obvious jealously and planned to ask Chris about it later that night. No sense in making things tense right before she went on stage.

Christine shrugged his grip off her arm, "I know, I'll be right there Joel," She turned away from him towards Dean, dismissing him. Joel gave frustrated groan and got right up in Dean's face.

"Watch yourself, Winchester." Joel snarled, then he stomped off towards the stage, pushing people out of his path.

"Geez, what's got his panties in a twist?" Dean laughed it off, taking a sip from his glass. He didn't mind the competition, maybe it would make things a little more interesting around here, if that was possible.

"Dean," Christine sighed, "He's a hunter." Dean choked on his drink, "They all are," She motioned to the band assembling on stage.

"What?" Dean asked dumbfounded.

"You heard me," She giggled, wrapping her arms around his waist for a moment, "See ya Winchester," She came in close, almost kissed him, then disappeared into the crowd towards the stage. Dean let out a frustrated groan, picking up his drink, following her into the crowd. There was an empty chair next to Sam with a perfect view of the stage.

Christine slipped in her in ear monitors, and pulled out the wireless microphone she stashed in her back pocket. She stopped short of the stage, making a right turn into some tables, grabbing a seat next to Sam, across from Bobby. She said something in Sam's ear and he nodded with a suspiciously goofy grin. The music started, and she didn't move. Everyone seemed to be in place, there was even a keyboard player. The only spot vacant was a microphone stand dead center stage. 'She's just a vocalist' He thought to himself. Boy was he wrong. She wasn't "just" anything. Dean stopped short of the wide expanse of the dance floor and found her staring right at him, curling her forefinger at him in a very sexy, 'come hither' motion.

He took a deep breath and strode across the vacant dance floor towards the stage. When he reached her, she got up and motioned for him to sit down. Suddenly Sam boosted her up on to the small round table top.

"I make my livin' off the evening news," She sang strongly, her hips swaying to the music. "just give me something, something I can use! People love it when you lose, they love dirty laundry." Dean's mouth went dry at the delicious angle he was treated to with her on the table in front of him. She continued to sing, and play to the crowd all around her. He sat back in his chair and marveled at how at home she seemed to be with all those eyes trained on her. "Can we film the operation? Is the head dead yet?" She jumped down from the table, motioning to Sam and Dean, "You know the boys in the newsroom got a running bet." She swung her arm and pointed to the stage, "Get the window on the set! We need dirty laundry!" During the guitar solo she finally made it to the stage, dancing next to Joel. At one point they were back to back and she locked eyes with Dean. He swore she winked at him. She knew seeing her close to Joel like that would make his blood boil. The last verse she left the stage again getting lost in the dance floor that was now standing room only, popping up on the edge of the bar top, holding on the the support beam at the end of the counter. "We can do the Innuendo, we can dance and sing!" She wiped the sweat from her brow, "When its said and done we haven't told you a thing, we all know that crap is king!" The crowd around her cheered at that, "Eat your dirty laundry!" The song transitioned into the last guitar solo and Christine pocketed her microphone and began pouring beer on tap. She downed a glass of water, and left the bar counter with two beers in her hand. These she deposited in front of Sam, "Thanks Sugar," She purred kissing him on the cheek, her eyes glued to Dean's.

"She always do that?" Dean asked into Bobby's ear before the next song started amidst the applause and cat calling.

"Oh yeah," Bobby drawled, " 'bout gave me a heart attack the first time I saw the band play." He laughed.

"She's fearless." Sam commented with a smile.

Dean took a sip of one of the beers she brought to the table, "They all hunters?" He asked suddenly, wanting to test Christine's words from earlier.

Bobby took a swig of beer, "Hell yeah. You got any friends who ain't?"

Dean nodded. It sure made things easier to share the unspoken code of honor of hunters. He didn't trust the way Joel was looking at Christine. The man seemed sweet on her, and Chris was completely oblivious, or really good at ignoring him.

The next song was a mix of rebel yells and saxophone. Joel had a decent voice, and could tear up the electric guitar quite nicely. Christine took a bit of backseat role, doing everything to make Joel shine which made her stand out even more to him. Maybe that was why Joel had his panties in a twist to begin with. Christine blew all of them out of the water with her showmanship and talent.

Christine sang the next song cleverly changing the words:

_Danny let me in I wanna be your friend_

_I want to guard your dreams and visions_

_Let me__ wrap __my legs round those__ velvet rims_

_And strap __my hands across your __engines_

_Together we could break this trap_

_Well run till we drop, baby we__'__ll never go back_

_Will you walk with me out on the wire_

_`cause baby I__'__m just a scared and lonely rider_

_But I gotta __know how it feels_

_I want to know if love is wild, babe, I want to know if love is real_

Bruce Springsteen, also known as 'The Boss', was a great choice for the audience. The song began to wrap up and Christine held out the mic indicating the audience sing for her, "cause tramps like us," Then she put the mic to her mouth, "baby we were born to run!" They all sang together.

The last song before their break started and Dean couldn't help but smile, Dancing in The Dark. He caught her singing this all the time when they were kids, especially the part about the mirror. She must've had a school girl crush on The Boss.

Christine met Dean's eyes across the smoky room, her arm outstretched, "Hey there Baby," She jumped off the stage, "I could use just a little help."

"She's incredible." Sam mused, polishing off the beer she brought, glancing over at Dean. "Hey man, you okay?"

"Yeah," Dean chuckled softly. He must look like one of those slack jawed idiots from a sappy chick flick.

"I've never seen you look like that." Sam said, leaning in to talk to him across the table top.

Dean opened his mouth prepped with a smart reply only to have Bobby cut him off. "Save the chick flick moment you two." Bobby warned, "Here she comes again."

Sure enough, Christine had wandered out into the tables again. "You can't start a fire!" she sang, "You can't start a fire without a spark, this gun's for hire." then she took the mic away from her mouth and pointed it at the audience around her, they sang, "Even if we're just dancing in the dark."

Christine found herself interacting with the crowd more tonight than she had in a while. Maybe it was the extra support she had from Dean and Sam.

_Messages keep getting clearer_

_Radio__'__s on and I__'__m moving round my place_

_I check my look in the mirror_

_I wanna change my clothes, my hair, my face!_

_Man, I ain__'__t getting nowhere_

_I__'__m just livin__' __in a dump like this_

_There__'__s something happening somewhere_

_Baby, I just know that there is_

Dean felt the impact of the verse as Christine continued to move about the room, exchanging high fives and winks with a few patrons. He could hear the cry for more out of life and the infamous itch for adventure. The song continued and Dean found himself taken back to the back porch again, just like at lunch. This time it was darker, and he held an empty mason jar. Christine inched her way towards a lightning bug that wandered near the porch steps. "Gotcha!" She whispered triumphantly, flashing him a 1000 watt smile. Dean didn't think anything of their role reversal in this moment. It seemed like the right thing to do, hold the jar while she danced about the yard catching the little critters. It wasn't until he did the same thing with another girl years later that he figured out the boy was supposed to catch the bugs, and the girl held the jar.

_Stay on the streets of this town_

_And they__'__ll be carving you up alright_

_They say you gotta stay hungry_

_Hey baby, I__'__m just about starving tonight_

_I__'__m dying for some action_

_I__'__m sick of sitting __'__round here trying to write this book_

_I need a love reaction_

_C__'__mon baby give me just one look_

_You can__'__t start a fire, sitting __'__round crying over a broken heart_

_This gun__'__s for hire, even if we__'__re just dancing in the dark_

_You can__'__t start a fire, worry about your little world falling apart_

_This gun__'__s for hire, even if we__'__re just dancing in the dark_

_Even if we__'__re just dancing in the dark_

_Even if we__'__re just dancing in the dark_

_Even if we__'__re just dancing in the dark_

Richie came forward to take the lead and Christine threw her arm around his neck, "Hey baby!" She sang, dancing with him as he finished the song. She gave a slight bow to the cheering crowd, placing her mic on the stand for the first time that night.

"See ya'll in fifteen minutes." Joel spoke into his microphone amongst the crowd immediately erupted into conversation and the band hung up their instruments for the break. "Christine, I was thinking-" Joel began, turning to where she usually lingered at her mic stand. Instead found the space empty, he swept the room and found her wrapped up the arms of Dean Winchester.

Dean stood up with the patrons around him, clapping and hooping and hollering with the best of them. Chris bounded off the stage and into his waiting arms. He breathed in the heady mixture of sweat and rose scented perfume. He squeezed her tight and whispered in her ear, "proud of you." She pulled away before he could say more, and she looked up at him with a mixture of excitement and exhaustion. Sam put his arm around her, "You are so awesome!" He said loudly to cut through the noise of the crowd.

She leaned into his embrace, "Thanks Sam." She said, then went over to Bobby. The boys exchanged a soulful look as father and daughter embraced. "Love you," Christine whispered into Bobby's ear before she pulled away. Bobby just nodded, making Christine smile even bigger. "I'm gonna hit the head, anybody need a refill?" She picked up the empty beer glasses, waggling her eyebrows.

Dean chuckled, taking the glasses from her, "Sure, I'll go with you." Sam and Bobby sat back down, and the pair worked their way through the crowd to the bar. "Swayze!" Dean called, flashing Christine a smile.

She leaned in to him and kissed his cheek, "I'll be right back." She disappeared into the open doorway marked 'Restrooms.'

Dean turned back to the bar, and Joel appeared next to him. "Be careful Winchester." He muttered darkly, flagging down the bartender.

Dean thought about just ignoring him then his temper got the best of him, "Look man, I don't know what I've done-"

"What you've done?" Joel cut him off, "You blow into town and back into Christine's life. Next week you'll just blow right back out. You leave destruction in your wake where ever you go." He took a swing of beer, "Winchesters." He scoffed.

"Joel!" Christine exclaimed sliding in between the two men, placing her hands on his shoulders giving a firm push. "He was just leaving," She said over her shoulder to Dean, walking Joel backwards into the crowd. When the pair reached the stage she turned to face him full on, "What the hell was that?" She demanded.

Joel barked a laugh, "He's just going to leave you behind like everyone else." He took a breath, "C'mon Christine, you think you're any different than his other one night stands and weekend flings?"

Christine couldn't slap him hard or fast enough. "Don't you dare compare me to-" She cut herself off. "You know what? I don't need to justify myself to you Joel. He's more than just a handsome hunter. He's Dean-"

"Winchester." Joel finished for her. "You can't trust them." He motioned to the table where Bobby, Dean and Sam were sitting. Bobby and Sam were laughing, Dean however was staring directly at her. She felt a chill run down her spine. He didn't look very upset that Joel was trying to convince her not to trust him. He looked calm and focused. Dean checked his watch, reminding her that their break was almost over.

"We don't have time for this, Joel." She brushed him off, taking a sip from the water glass on the stool next to her. Settling on the stool in front of her microphone, she signaled to Richie and the rest of the band to kick the first song off. Richie's saxophone broke through the chatter, giving everyone time to find a seat or a place to stand to enjoy the next set.

Christine closed her eyes and took a deep breath before singing;

_On a long and lonesome highway, east of Omaha_

_You can listen to the engine moanin' out it's one note song_

_You can think about the woman, or the girl you knew the night before_

_But your thoughts will soon be wandering, the way they always do_

_When you're riding sixteen hours and there's nothing there to do_

_And you don't feel much like riding, you just wish the trip was through_

_Here I am, on the road again_

_There I am, on the stage_

_Here I go, playing star again_

_There I go, turn the page_

The rest of the set went really smoothly. Hits like, Pour Some Sugar On Me and Pink Houses really got the place rocking. Desperado got a different response, Christine dedicated the song before she sang it.

"I'd like to dedicate this one to John Winchester. Farewell to a fiercely loved father and dear friend." She said, then while Keith played the keyboard she sang;

_Desperado, why don't you come to your senses?_

_You been out ridin' fences for so long now_

_Oh, you're a hard one_

_I know that you got your reasons_

_These things that are pleasin' you_

_Can hurt you somehow_

Dean cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. He caught Sam's eye and to his surprise found them glistening with tears. Bobby shifted a little as well. It seemed Christine had a gift for reaching even the hardest of hearts.

"I remember, I remember…" Christine finished the Bob Seger classic, 'Night Moves, concluding the two hour performance. The crowd erupted in applause as, 'Swayze' jumped up on stage to conclude the live music portion of the night.

"Hey Ya'll! Thanks for being so amazing tonight. You just witnessed the greatness that is Elliott and The Breakaway Creation!" He exclaimed, earning a few hoops and hollers accompanied by more applause. A few people chanted by the bar, "One more song, one more song!" "What's that?" He asked, "One more song? Hell yeah!" He exclaimed, waving the band back on stage. Christine had only stepped off the platform and was embracing a young girl who stood by the stage the whole set.

Joel picked up his electric guitar and with a quick click off from Harry he began the song, Crumblin' Down by John Mellencamp, letting the opening riff hang out by itself for a few bars. Harry dropped in on the drums and Jerry followed on the bass.

Christine danced around the stage, getting up close and personal with Joel despite their little spat before the last set. She put the mic back on its stand and sang into it;

_Some people, ain__'__t no damn good_

_you can trust __'__em, you can__'__t love __'__em_

_no good deed goes unpunished_

_I don__'__t mind, being their whipping boy_

_I__'__ve had that pleasure for years and years_

_No, no I never was sinner, but tell me what else can I do_

_Second best is what you get until you learn to bend the rules_

_Time respects no person, what you lift up must fall_

_They__'__re waiting outside to claim my crumbin__' __walls_

The chorus proved to be just like other's except Christine didn't even sing with the microphone next to her mouth, she held it out for the young girl who had embraced her just moments before. The second verse was another Dean heard frequently growing up with Chris:

_Some people, say I__'__m obnoxious and lazy_

_I__'__m uneducated, my opinion means nothing!_

_But I know, I__'__m a real good dancer_

_Don__'__t need to look over my shoulder to see what I__'__m after_

_Everybody__'__s got their problems, ain__'__t no new news here_

_I__'__m the same old trouble you__'__ve been having for years_

_Don__'__t confuse the problem with the issue boy cause its perfectly clear_

_just a human desire to have you come near_

_want to put my arms around you, feel your breath in my ear_

_you can bend me, you can break me, but you better stand clear!_

_When the walls come tumblin__' __down_

_when the walls come crumblin__'__, crumblin__'_

_when the walls come crumblin__' __tumblin__'_

_down_

The song concluded soon after that, he could sense Christine was losing steam since she had put the mic back on the stand instead holding it in her hand. This time the band left the stage with their instruments. The clock above the bar read 10:20PM. Considering he'd been up since 0800 he was feeling it was time for a little R&amp;R. Maybe he could coax Christine into sitting on the hood of the Impala and gazing at the stars. Oh wait. He kicked himself. How was it that just the thought of spending time with Chris made it seem like everything was right with the world?

"Dean! Sam!" Christine called in their direction, "Come meet the band!"

* * *

_from the author__'__s desk__…_

_Small Town - John Mellencamp - This song takes me back to riding in my father__'__s truck on the way to the local race track. It embodies exactly the feel of the community Bobby and Christine call home. _

_My muse is enjoying the interaction between Dean and Christine for the moment. Let__'__s see how the topic of Joel Lane plays out between them shall we__…_

_As always, thank you for reading. Leave a review if you want to feed the muse! _

_xoxo_

_Lumora The White _


	9. Peace of Mind

**Long, Long Way From Home**

_Previously__…_

_The song concluded soon after that, he could sense Christine was losing steam since she had put the mic back on the stand instead of holding it in her hand. This time the band left the stage with their instruments. The clock above the bar read 10:20PM. Considering he__'__d been up since 0800 he was feeling it was time for a little R&amp;R. Maybe he could coax Christine into sitting on the hood of the Impala and gazing at the stars. Oh wait. He kicked himself. How was it that just the thought of spending time with Chris made it seem like everything was right with the world?_

"_Dean! Sam!__" __Christine called in their direction, __"__Come meet the band!__"_

* * *

**Chapter Nine : Peace of Mind**

Sam gave a shrug and a smile. Dean rolled his eyes and followed his baby brother though the crowd. Bobby brought up the rear. The band usually jammed at the salvage yard in an unused part of the garage/pole barn that Christine wired for sound so he knew them all pretty well.

"Joel Lane, electric guitar and vocals," Christine said, for Sam's benefit. "Jerry Jace or 'JJ' as we fondly call him, on the bass." She pointed to Jerry who was placing his guitar in its case. He came over and shook Sam's and Dean's hands. "Harry Fenkle, our fantastic drummer." Harry was already talking to Bobby about the following week's practice time. "Keith Hammond on the keys, I used to play and sing, but this guy graciously stepped up so I don't have to be so restricted during performances." Keith came over and warmly shook each brother's hand.

"Sorry to hear about John. He and my Dad used to hunt together every so often. Call each other about signs and lore and stuff like that." Keith said, "Great to meet you." With that he picked up his keyboard case and shuffled off stage.

Dean was taken aback by the warmth of the band members. They seemed like a little family. Joel was a different story of course. Dean could tell it was because of his unwelcome relationship with Chris, otherwise these guys seemed thick as thieves.

"See you back at the house, kid." Bobby waved, exiting the bar.

"Great job tonight guys!" Sam tagged along after giving Christine a hug. Dean stuck around, carrying out a couple of boxes of equipment to Harry's truck, talking with Keith about his Dad.

"You wanna have a drink with me babe?" Joel asked Christine, throwing his arm around her shoulders after they loaded the last box. Dean could tell it was a usual occurrence for them to have drinks after their gig. Joel tried to steer her away from Dean.

Christine shrugged his arm off, "No thanks Joel, I'm gonna head out." Joel began to protest, so she turned to Dean, "You fit to drive?" She inquired, dangling her keys off her forefinger, ignoring Joel's groan of frustration.

Dean took the keys from her finger, giving Joel a dark look that made the man stop dead in his tracks. He could tell Christine was exhausted, she wouldn't ask him to drive if she wasn't. "You're okay with me driving Cherry Pie?" He teased, placing his hand protectively on the small of her back, leading her towards the gleaming Challenger.

"Roxanne," Christine giggled tiredly, "Her name is Roxanne."

"You don't have to put on the red light, Roxanne?" Dean asked, opening the passenger door for her.

She nodded, "Bobby's idea, I call her Roxy for short." She yawned loud and long.

"How's that any better than-" He stopped when he locked eyes with Chris. If looks could kill, this was one of them. "Roxy it is," Dean nodded, shutting her door, rounding the front end and settling himself behind the wheel. He turned the key, and Roxy roared to life. He couldn't help but smile. Of course, he would rather be driving Baby, but Roxy was a great car. It didn't hurt that he had a beautiful, talented woman in the passenger seat. Instead of bucket seats, Christine installed a bench seat in the front, just like the Impala. He wondered if the joy ride he took her on in the Impala the weekend before he left ten years earlier inspired the rare stray from stock parts. He'd just turned sixteen, and his Dad left the Impala at Bobby's house when the two men went on a hunt. He told Dean to fix the brakes and to take her out for a test drive, alone. Christine begged him to tag along, of course he relented. Christine practically road half in, half out of the Impala. She had her arm out the window, disbursing the setting rays of the sun across the seat between them. They drove to 'hunter's point', at least that's what Christine called it. It was a pretty decent size hill beside a roadside picnic area that over looked the highway that wound through the bluffs below. They'd ride their bikes out after dark and lay out on the grass and stare at the stars for hours.

They arrived just as the sun dipped below the horizon. The light faded slowly as Dean settled on the hood of the car, Christine sat on the grass, playing with a few blades between her fingers. Christine eventually grew cold, and Dean offered his arms to her. They traded stories about school and friends, dreaming about what they would do to fix up the Challenger that summer.

She curled up next to him, just like she was now, on the ride home. Maybe that experience is what inspired her to get a bench seat rather than the original bucket seats. Dean knew even back then that he needed Christine in his life more than he needed anyone else. She let him talk things out, get mad, and was there to pick up the pieces so he didn't have to do it alone. She was a safe place, someone who didn't demand anything from him. He fell victim to playing the good, obedient son and caring older brother.

Instead of going straight back to Bobby's, he pulled off at the picnic area. The parking lot was still dirt and the tables looks a little worse for wear, but the area was relatively unchanged.

Christine sat up when she felt the car turn right instead of left around the curve at hunter's point. "Dean?" She asked, rubbing her eyes sleepily.

"Up for a little star gazing?" He asked, opening the driver's door sliding out. He offered her his hand.

"Sure," She yawned, taking his hand and sliding out after him. Dean kept a hold of her hand, and led her up to the top of the hill. They stood for a moment taking in the big blackish blue sky chock full of stars. The crickets softly sang their symphony of lullabies and a few birds called out into the night. Dean sat down, laying out his Dad's leather jacket like a blanket. He motioned for her to sit between his knees she could rest her back against his chest. She sighed with pleasure at being wrapped up so intimately with him at such a lovely spot that held such good memories for them.

"Tell me what you think of the band." Christine said breaking the comfortable silence they had lapsed into.

Dean scoffed, "Well, uh" He tried to stall a little bit. "The band, hmmm."

"Seriously Dean!" Christine whirled around, gripping the front of his plaid shirt.

Dean laughed, "Okay, Okay." He sighed, "The band is awesome. You, you are awesome." He leaned in, his hand cupping the back of her head, bringing her face close to his. "Joel is quite the piece of work." He murmured, his lips almost touching hers.

"Joel can kiss my ass." Christine whispered before pressing her lips to his. The kiss began softly, lips brushing, their breathing steady. Quickly the kiss intensified, Dean pushed her down on the grass, and covered her body with his own.

He broke the kiss and stared down at her for a moment. She smiled shyly up at him, bitting her lip, her cheeks reddening a bit. "So what's the deal with Joel anyway?" He asked, leaning down and pressing a kiss to her collarbone.

She hummed in approval, "Is this really the time Dean?" She protested. All she wanted to think about was the way his lips felt on her skin.

"Seems as good as any," He remarked, lips still lingering on her skin.

With a sigh of frustration, she pushed him off of her. "Fine," She huffed, "I can't think when you do that. You want answers, keep your hands," He put his hands behind his back and leaned in to kiss her again, "and your lips to yourself." He made a pouty face, but helped her stand up. They returned to Roxy, Christine leaned against the hood, and Dean joined her donning his jacket, staring up at the starry sky. "Joel Lane is a piece of work." She began, "He and I go back almost as long as you and I do."

Dean looked over at her, "really?" He asked, crossing his arms.

"Yeah," She laughed, "You weren't the only boy in the life I had a crush on." She smiled.

"Do tell," He shifted closer, brushing a few stray curls away from her eyes.

"Well," She took a breath, "It really began the summer before you left and never came back. Bobby sometimes had Joel and his sister Kate over when their Dad was out on a hunt. He never took you and Sam at the same time, claimed he wasn't a school master or halfway house care taker." She chuckled.

"Sounds familiar," He commented with a smirk.

"Kate was nice, _then._ We all would play out in the woods or the salvage yard. They weren't as brave as you though. Joel started to look at me like you had. I didn't realize that you were interested in me until I saw that same look in his eyes when he tried to kiss me."

"Wait, hold on." Dean said putting up his hand, "He _tried_ to kiss you."

"Yeah," She giggled. "He took me to senior prom," Dean's eyebrows rose, "Just as friends," she assured him. She cleared her throat and continued, "He dropped me off at Bobby's back porch and before I went inside, he leaned in to kiss me. I panicked, so I shrieked and kneed him in the balls!" She exclaimed, fully laughing this time.

Dean found himself enjoying the story even more with this new development. "No other guys since then?" He asked, coming even closer to her.

She shook her head, "Nope. Joel definitely has knack for scaring the competition away."

"And Kate?" He asked, remembering hearing about Kate when they were kids.

Christine barked a laugh, "Kate." She sighed, "Kate auditioned to be the lead singer of what's now named Elliott and The Breakaway Creation. The band started the summer after we all graduated high school. Harry-"

"The fantastic drummer," Dean added, showing he was paying attention earlier.

"Nice," Christine praised him with a nod, "Harry didn't know who she was exactly and he torn her up one side and down the other. Said she sounded like a cat yowling in heat." She pushed off the hood and began to pace, "Joel was so furious. He almost quit the band, but decided to stay because-"

"Who else was he going to play with?" Dean finished for her. Living the life of a hunter, friends were damn hard to come by.

Christine nodded and continued, "I auditioned the following week, and the guys all agreed I was what they were looking for. Joel was beyond ecstatic."

"I'm sure." Dean said quietly. He contemplated how to express to Christine that Joel didn't frighten him at all. Dean Winchester didn't scare that easy.

"I don't think Kate took well to the fact that there was not even a snowball's chance in hell that she and I were ever going to be sisters in law." Christine sighed, "I don't think she really considered the fact that she'd be sentencing me to a life with her bumbling idiot of a brother for to that happen. She just figured he's a boy and I'm a girl. This was the way it was supposed to go."

"That's too bad." Dean said pushing off from the hood, coming to stand in front of her. "I think Joel is at it again."

"Yeah?" She asked, "Is Dean Winchester scared by little Joel Lane?" She teased, crossing her arms defiantly.

"So scared," He said sarcastically, gently uncrossing her arms, placing her hands on his shoulders, stepping into her embrace.

"Well, Dean Winchester," She said with a giggle, her fingers threading into his hair "What are you going to do about it?" Her eyes sparkled with excitement in the pale moonlight.

"I'm sure I'll come up with something," He murmured, running his thumb over her parted lips. He lifted her chin slightly so he could stare directly into her eyes. He leaned closer, just before he pressed his lips to hers he whispered, "Awesome."

They kissed for a little while longer, the second time Christine had to pull away to yawn, Dean knew it was time to turn in. He settled her back in passenger seat and drove them back to Bobby's house.

Bobby Singer stood on the back porch, whiskey glass in hand. He gazed up at the starry sky and wondered how in the world he was going to have a serious talk with Dean about Christine now that John had passed. He knew women were a touchy subject for Dean to begin with, and now that the boy's nerves were raw and bleeding, he was going to bring it up. He loved Christine with every fiber of his being. He felt protective of that girl, and he'd be damned if Dean Winchester was going to hurt her again. Many a night he held her when she woke from a nightmare screaming Dean's name. She understood why the boys didn't come back, but she still felt connected to Dean somehow. He wasn't a fool. These two kids had something special. He just wanted to make sure Dean Winchester knew it before it was too late.

He heard the delicious purr of the Challenger's engine before he saw the headlights turn into the yard. Christine sure did a fine job on that car, one of the proudest moments of his life was handing her the keys on her sixteenth birthday. Two solid years of work later and she drove the car off to community college. To his surprise, Dean climbed out of the driver's seat, gently pulling a sleepy Christine from the passenger seat. He wrapped her up in his arms and carried her bridal style up the house. He could hear Christine's faint protests as the pair came closer to the porch.

"Bobby," Dean nodded at the older man as Bobby held the door open for him. Dean set Christine on her feet, but she swayed a little, so he helped her to the arm chair that sat at the foot of the stairs under the archway between the foyer and the den. "I'll be right back," He whispered. Christine nodded, kissing his cheek before settling back into the chair. He could tell Bobby wanted to have a word with him.

The darkness of the surrounding area seemed to press in on the little house. Lightning bugs flickered at the edge of the woods, mirroring the cloudless starry sky above. Bobby turned at the sound of the screen door opening. Dean Winchester stepped out onto the porch, his boots softly thudding against the wood floor.

Dean walked up the railing where Bobby stood and leaned back against it. He took a deep breath, "So, is this where you threaten to pump me full of buckshot if I break her heart?" He murmured, glancing sideways at the older man.

Bobby scoffed, "Naw, she'd take care of that for me." He smiled ruefully. He studied the younger man's reaction. Dean nodded with a small smile. "Let's just say I won't stop her." Bobby's voice turned cold.

"Fair enough," Dean straightened away from the railing, turning to go. Bobby's voice stopped him.

"Dean," Bobby said, putting a hand on the younger man's shoulder, "I know you're hurting, son. Just remember she'd go to hell and back for you wh-"

"Whatever the cost." Dean finished for him, turning back around, making Bobby's jaw drop a little. "I'm the one who told her that." He took a quick breath and continued, reassuming his position on the railing, "I think she thought I was a little crazy and overprotective until she found out the truth."

Bobby nodded. "She accepted the supernatural without so much as a blink. Christine is," Bobby's voice broke and he cleared his throat. Dean shifted uncomfortably, straightening away from the railing to lean against the house. "Christine is loyal to a fault. I just don't want to see you take advantage of it like others have."

Dean nodded. He could tell Joel hung on to hope simply because Christine still remained loyal to him, even though she rejected him romantically.

Bobby clapped a hand on Dean's shoulder in a gesture of affection. "I've always considered you boys to be family. You boys are the best in the business." He took a breath and sighed. "You and I can both agree, Christine deserves-"

"The best." Dean finished with a knowing smirk.

"Exactly." Bobby answered, moving past the younger man towards the door. He held the door open, "You coming?" He asked.

"In a minute." Dean answered, leaning one last time on the railing, watching the lighting bugs glow in the yard.

Bobby entered the house, taking care to make sure the screen door didn't bang shut behind him. Christine sat in her favorite arm chair by the stairs, knees curled up to her chin. He turned down the lamp on the bookshelf by her head. He reached down and smoothed away a few curls from her forehead. Almost hoping Dean caught him, Bobby leaned down and pressed a kiss to her left temple.

Dean pushed off the railing and entered the house, catching the screen door behind him just before it slammed shut. He found Bobby leaned over Christine, his lips pressed to her forehead. He looked away quickly, rubbing the back of his neck, not wanting to intrude on Bobby's moment.

"Take care of her," Bobby whispered before disappearing up the stairs.

All Dean could do was nod as he came toward Christine's sleeping form. He leaned down to her, scooping her up in arms. She shifted a little mumbling, "No Joel, I - only Dean. Dean."

Dean felt his smile turn into that silly, face splitting grin he could only ever attribute to Christine. He made it up the stairs before he found her staring shyly up at him. He continued down the hallway, "Hey there," He said, his voice husky with the emotion of their close proximity.

They reached her door, and he gently set her on her feet. She gripped the doorframe as he backed away from her. "Hey," She whispered back.

"Great job tonight Chris," Dean murmured, turning to go back down the hall to the room he usually shared with Sam, "I'll let you get some sleep."

He took a few steps down the hall before Christine found her voice, "Dean," her voice sounded urgent and needy.

Dean stopped dead in his tracks. He turned around to find Christine standing in the middle of the hallway across from her doorframe. Before he could change his mind, he closed the distance between them, kissing her fiercely. He lifted her up, and she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist. He maneuvered them through into her room, across the area rug to her bed. They kissed for a few moments, feet dangling off the bed.

"I need a shower." Christine whispered sitting up, stripping off her boots She couldn't take how sticky she felt any longer, especially if she was going to continue to get up close and personal with Dean. "Be right back," She kissed his cheek, getting up from the bed. As she walked across the room she stripped off her black sleeveless top without much thought, revealing her lacy black bra. She dropped the blouse in the laundry basket by the bathroom door. She turned towards the bed, finding Dean reclining against the pillows, his eyes glued to hers, glittering in the darkness. She gasped, suddenly registering what she had done. "Sorry!" She squeaked, crossing her arms over her breasts.

"I'm not," Dean mused, as she disappeared into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. He stripped off his boots and jacket. He stepped out of his jeans and shrugged off his plaid shirt, laying it on her desk chair just like the night before. He settled back on the bed, listening to the running water.

Christine shut off the shower, stripping off the shower cap she kept for instances like this. Her hair was too much of a beast to attend to at 1 AM. She dressed in a simple black tank top and soft pink sleep shorts, after a few quick dabs of moisturizer and spray of deodorant. She fluffed her hair, studying her reflection for a moment in the mirror over the sink. Taking a deep breath, she opened the bathroom door and softly padded over the bed.

Dean heard the water shut off. He listened to her move around in the room for a moment. Forcing himself to sit up he opened his eyes to find Christine emerging from the bathroom. She still didn't have much on, this time he was treated to a view of her luscious legs. He cleared his throat as she approached the bed, earning a pretty blush spreading across her cheeks.

Christine sat down on the edge of the bed as Dean took over the bathroom for a moment. She leaned over and clicked off the lamp by the bedside. Dean was already undressed, so she knew he could navigate his way to the bed like he'd done numerous times before. Suddenly overcome with exhaustion, she settled herself under the covers, still facing the bathroom. She closed her eyes with a sigh, reveling in the softness of her mattress and comforter.

Dean returned to find the room plunged into total darkness. A sliver of moonlight spilled across the bed, bathing her form in its pale light. Her eyes were closed, and as he moved closer, he could see her breathing was deep and even. He slid under the covers, gently wrapping his arm around her.

Christine felt the bed dip and the covers pull back. She hummed with pleasure as she felt his arms wrap around her, turning slightly on her side to help his reach. She opened her eyes slightly, and with a yawn she asked, "Bobby threaten to pump you full of buckshot?"

Dean's chest reverberated with a chuckle, "Nope," He turned his face to look into her eyes, "said you'd take care of that." He squeezed her a little.

"Damn straight," She shot back with a giggle. "Thank you," She whispered suddenly sober.

Dean studied her for a moment. "Always," He answered letting sleep claim his weary body and mind.

* * *

_from the author__'__s desk__…_

Peace of Mind - Boston - I believe Christine could be a great companion for Dean. She's not going to let him forget who he is, and who he could be. This song has always been a favorite of mine, and I imagine this being on both of their playlists while working on their cars.

Up next we FINALLY get to the roadhouse! Wahoo! I'm so pumped to share my version of Dean's and Jo's relationship with Christine fit in. Hang on, its going to be a wild one…

xoxo

Lumora The White


	10. Stuck In The Middle With You

**Long, Long Way From Home **

_Previously__…_

_Dean returned to find the room plunged into total darkness. A sliver of moonlight spilled across the bed, bathing her form in its pale light. Her eyes were closed, and as he moved closer, he could see her breathing was deep and even. He slid under the covers, gently wrapping his arm around her. _

_Christine felt the bed dip and the covers pull back. She hummed with pleasure as she felt his arms wrap around her, turning slightly on her side to help his reach. She opened her eyes slightly, and with a yawn she asked, __"__Bobby threaten to pump you full of buckshot?__" _

_Dean__'__s chest reverberated with a chuckle, __"__Nope,__" __He turned his face to look into her eyes, __"__said you__'__d take care of that.__" __He squeezed her a little. _

"_Damn straight,__" __She shot back with a giggle. __"__Thank you,__" __She whispered suddenly sober. _

_Dean studied her for a moment. __"__Always,__" __He answered letting sleep claim his weary body and mind._

* * *

**Chapter 10 : Stuck In The Middle With You**

_One week later__…_

Christine smiled as she sipped her can of coke and looked through her binoculars. She arrived a few hours ago to a little town in northern Wisconsin where Cooper's Carnival had set up camp. She parked just far enough away from the carnival to remain hidden, but completely enjoy watching Dean and Sam pull up in the minivan Bobby lent them. She hadn't lent them Roxy because she caught a case in Omaha. The boys declined her offer to join, instead they headed for middle of nowhere Nebraska once Sam cracked one of John's old burner phones. Dean told her it was a message from a woman named Ellen. Christine knew Ellen Harvelle, owner and operator of Harvelle's Roadhouse, found at the exact coordinates Sam had triangulated. She left out the small detail that Elliott and The Breakaway Creation had a gig at Harvelle's Roadhouse that Saturday night. Dean kicked the dirt, and she could have sworn she read, 'Friggin' Soccer Mom,' come out of his mouth.

Suddenly her phone rang, _I Love Rock n__' __Roll _by Joan Jett broke the silence startling out of her fit of giggles. "Elliott," She answered.

"Dean FUCKING Winchester?!" Joanna Beth Harvelle's scream emanated from her cell phone, causing her to pull it away from her ear in sharp protest.

"Nice to hear from you too, Jo." Christine shot back, looking through her binoculars, phone against her ear again. Sam was laughing at something Dean was saying, shaking his head.

"You couldn't at least call me?" Jo whined, Christine imagined she was twirling her blonde locks with her fingers, hip resting against the bar.

"I had a case," Christine explained, watching the boys disappear deeper into the carnival.

"You had a case," Jo mocked, "You still have a damn cell phone!" Jo blew up again.

"How bad?" Christine asked ignoring Jo's dramatic outburst. She wanted to know if Dean tried anything, or fed her a line.

Jo smiled into the phone, pausing for effect,"Nothing," she leaned over the bar, wiping away some peanut shells from the worn surface.

It was Christine's turn to be dramatic, "NOTHING?!" She sat up, dropping her binoculars.

"Yep," Jo confirmed, turning away from the prying eyes of her mother, "Just fed me some line about, 'wrong place, wrong time'." She did air quotes with the last phrase.

Christine smiled like the cheshire cat. "Really," She said, lifting her reacquired binoculars to her eyes. Dean and Sam came back into view again. They each had a circus staff jacket on, Dean held a broom and dust pan. Sam discretely rocked an EMF meter.

"Really," Jo echoed, rolling her eyes. She scrubbed at spot on the bar, "He's so h-"

"Off limits," Christine cut in, Then after a moment, "_And _really hot." She confirmed, earning a girlish giggle from her best friend.

"Touché," Jo said saucily. "In all fairness, he did smile at me with that infamous shit eating grin you rave about."

"You're a pretty girl Jo," Christine would at least grant her that, "Dean's a red blooded American man. That smile just comes with the territory."

"Fair enough," Jo relented. "How'd the case go?" She asked munching on some bar peanuts as her mother filled the bowl that sat in front of her.

"Great," Christine answered, lifting her binoculars again, Sam and Dean were exiting the park, headed for the minivan. "Just another salt and burn. I'm beginning to think Bobby wants me as far out of harms way as possible." she mused, averting her eyes as the minivan passed, heading out of town. She threw Roxy into gear and followed the boys at a safe distance. She had an eerie feeling they might need back up. "Tango 1 and 2 are on the move. Gotta go Jo, see you Friday night." She knew following the boys needed her full attention if she didn't want to fuck it up.

"I'm counting on it, stay safe." Jo urged. Then with a smile to her mother, she reached over the bar and hung up the phone on the wall.

* * *

Night fell swiftly on the already sleepy town. Christine followed Sam and Dean most of the day, avoiding detection quite easily since both men seemed so preoccupied with whatever they were after in addition to what they were trying to deal with on the inside. Up the street the minivan sat across from the house of a young family. Christine pulled Roxy into a thicket at the end of the street, and used her binoculars while she crouched a small copse of pine trees by the house in question. Despite her sharp skills, she felt very sleepy and dozed off a bit.

Sudden movement outside the front door jerked her awake, putting her senses into immediate overdrive. Sam and Dean made it to the house and inside it before she reached the driveway. Going around back, she found the clown standing at the side door, waving at the glass. The door opened and the clown entered the house. Christine moved into position to get a shot off at the creature if she needed to. Before she got set in the trees across from the door, a blood curling scream broke the night. At the same time she heard a rifle discharge, the clown came flying out of the door, and disappeared into thin air. Christine rushed the side of the house where the clown had come flying out of to find Sam and Dean comforting the little girl. Footsteps sounded on the staircase and a man's voice asked, "What's going on down here?"

"Let's scram you two!" Christine hollered, earning severely confused looks from both men.

"Christine?" Sam asked in disbelief as they fled the house. Dean was looking at her like she couldn't possible exist.

"Yes!" she exclaimed, "I've been following you two knuckleheads all day."

"I told you I saw Roxy," Dean said smugly to Sam as they ran down the driveway.

"I'll text you coordinates!" She yelled over her shoulder when the trio reached the street. The boys pealed out in the minivan, and she climbed into Roxy and sped off in the opposite direction.

* * *

"She'll be here, Sammy." Dean assured a nervous Sam with a chuckle as he worked on unbolting the license plate from the back of the minivan. He was surprised he didn't feel uneasy about having Chris with them to finish this one out.

"Yeah, I know." Sam sighed, "You really think they saw the plates?" He asked, handing Dean his backpack.

"Can't take that chance, I hate this friggin' thing anyway." Dean quipped, smiling as he heard the rumble of the Challenger's engine.

Christine took a few side roads to get back to the highway, trying to avoid being placed in the vicinity of the scene of the crime. She texted the boys some coordinates that were on the edge of a forest, just outside of town, opposite end than the families' home. She figured it'd be a perfect spot to dump the van before heading back to the circus.

She pulled up in time to hear Dean shout at Sam, "I'm dealing with Dad's death! Are you?" Obviously the boys weren't seeing eye to eye on how to deal with their father's passing. She chuckled a little bit at the memory of her and Bobby having similar spats over her father's death. She climbed out of the Challenger as the boys spit up, Sam staring at this phone, Dean

"You boys need a ride?" She asked opening the passenger door, leaning the front seat forward so Sam could fold himself into the backseat. "Sorry its a tight squeeze getting in, plenty of room once you're in there, scout's honor." She promised as Sam climbed in, joining Dean at the trunk to settle their things.

"What the hell are you doing in Wisconsin?" Dean asked leaning against the rear bumper.

"Bobby told me where you were headed. Since I wasn't far I stopped at the Roadhouse after I finished my case in Omaha. Ellen told me where you boys took a case, so since I wasn't busy for a few days, I trucked it up here to see if I could help." Christine explained, shutting the trunk with a soft thud. "Which motel you at?" She asked, crossing in front of him to reach the driver's door.

Before she could clear him, Dean wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to his chest. "I've missed you." He growled in her ear before palming the back of her head and forcefully kissing her senseless.

Sam cleared his throat from the backseat, she left all the windows down in the afternoon heat, "Get a room you two!" He exclaimed with a scowl.

Dean released her after a few moments, slapping her rear playfully. The pair climbed into the Challenger and left the minivan behind.

"Hey Ellen," Sam said into his phone, he continued to ask Ellen about the case while Christine popped in a cassette tape. Def Leppard's Pyromania quietly seeped out the speakers while Dean checked Chris' phone that had just buzzed.

"Hey!" Christine exclaimed, trying to grab the phone out of Dean's grasp while simultaneously steering.

"Jo H," Dean read, mulling over where he had heard that name before. Suddenly he remembered. "H, as in Harvelle?" Oh God. She was friends with the little spitfire who practically threw herself at him at the roadhouse.

"Yes, Dean." She said, annoyed that he was snooping around on her phone. "Jo and I have been friends for years. After John and Bobby had a falling out, we would end up at the Roadhouse every so often, checking in on other hunters in the area and in between our own hunts."

"When did you start hunting on your own?" Dean asked suddenly curious about this part of her life. His dad only let him hunt alone a couple of years ago. Even then the man hadn't let him alone for more than a couple of days at a time.

"I'd just turned eighteen." She admitted with a wide grin. taking the phone from his grasp, "Gotcha." She let the phone slide into her lap between her legs.

'_Eighteen? No wonder she__'__s got urban legends and rumors following her around.__' _He thought. Dean's eyes followed the phone's new whereabouts, feeling heat pool below his belt causing him to shift in the seat a little.

"See something you like?" Christine inquired cheekily, clearing her throat. His eyes flew to hers.

"What?" He sputtered, Christine rolled her eyes with amusement. He cleared his throat, turning to stare out the windshield, "What kind of case was it?"

"Simple salt and burn. Bobby didn't want me getting into trouble so he would assign me cases that were pretty much open and shut." Christine explained, finding Dean's eyes on her again. Dean nodded, and she took a shaky breath, "Still, it was a huge step of faith on his part." Christine found herself transported back to a simpler time.

* * *

**June 1999 **

"_**Now, you call me if anything goes sideways, ya hear? Anything.**__**" **__**Bobby held her at arms length, ducking his head a little so he could stare directly into her eyes. **_

"_**Sure thing, Bobby.**__**" **__**Christine answered with a bright smile, waving her newly acquired cell phone under his nose. **_

"_**Good,**__**" **__**He nodded, releasing her shoulders, **__**"**__**Now hit the road, not much light left to get to Luverne.**__**" **_

_**Christine rolled her eyes, **__**"**__**Its like an hour and a half, Bobby!**__**" **__**She exclaimed, picking up her duffle bag back from the kitchen table. **__**"**__**I**__**'**__**ll call you when I get settled.**__**" **_

_**Bobby caught a case of a restless spirit in Luverne, Minnesota at the local museum. After some begging and pleading Christine finally convinced him that she could handle it. **_

_**Christine loaded her duffle in the back seat, and climbed into the newly restored Challenger. She**__**'**__**d chosen a bench seat from a **__**'**__**67 Chevy Impala Bobby broke down for scrap in place of the traditional bucket seats. She opened the glove box and searched for a black mixtape she**__**'**__**d made a few years back. Now seemed like an appropriate time as ever to break it out again. She held the cassette in her hand, running her thumb over the masking tape that read, **__**'**__**Dean**__**'**__**. **__**"**__**If you could see me now, Winchester.**__**" **__**She murmured aloud, popping the tape in the deck. Putting Roxy into gear, Christine peeled out the salvage yard and made tracks for Luverne, Minnesota. Her heart heavy with memory and unfinished business. **_

* * *

"A Rakshasa." Sam said flipping his phone closed, leaning forward, placing his hands on the front seat between Christine and Dean.

"What's that?" Dean asked.

Sam shrugged, "Ellen's best guess. It's a race of ancient hindu creatures. They appear in human form, they feed on human flesh-"

"They can make themselves invisible, and they can't enter a home without first being invited." Christine cut in, earning a nod and a small smile from Sam.

Dean sighed. "The thing dresses up like a clown so the kids invite 'em in. Why not just munch on the kids?" He asked, flashing that signature smile in her direction. Christine rolled her eyes.

"Not enough meat on the bones I guess?" She offered.

Sam nodded, "Sure, and they live in squaller. They sleep on a bed of dead insects." All three hunters shuddered at that mental picture.

"Nice," Dean scoffed.

"Yeah, and they have to feed every twenty to thirty years." Sam continued.

"That makes sense," Dean said, "I mean, the carnival now, the Bunker Brother's in '81-"

"Probably more before that," Christine cut in. Both boys nodded.

"Hey Sam, who do we know that worked both shows?" Dean asked.

"Cooper." Sam answered with a nod.

"Cooper." Dean confirmed.

"You know, that picture of his father, that looked just like him." Sam mused. "

"You think maybe it was him?" Christine asked, trying to track with the boy's logic.

"I don't know. Who knows how old he is." Sam said, leaning back against the seat.

"Ellen say how to kill it?" Dean asked.

"Legend goes, a dagger made of pure brass." Sam answered.

"That's right!" Christine chimed in with a grin.

"I think I know where to get one of those." Dean offered, shifting so he was facing Christine and Sam. Christine smiled. It was fun to work a case with them finally.

"Before we go stabbing things into Cooper, we'd better make damn sure it's him." Sam shot back with a wry grin.

"You're such a stickler for the details Sammy," Dean said with a chuckle. Sam just smiled, looking at his hands. "Alright, I'll round up the blade. You go check if Cooper's got bed bugs." Dean said, divvying up the work load.

"What about me boss?" Christine asked with a cheeky grin, eyes still on the road.

"Uh, well," Dean huffed, "ah. You could…" He looked over at her with raised eyebrows and wide eyes as they rolled to a stop at a red light. She met his gaze, her green eyes light with amusement.

"Tag along with me," Sam offered, leaning forward to rest his chin on the front bench seat, "I could use a look out in case Cooper shows up."

"Good idea," Dean confirmed, nodding with his lower lip sticking out.

Christine drove back to Cooper's Carnival, parking behind some trees to conceal their getaway. The trio climbed out of the classic car, entering the carnival easily blending in among the young families. Dean headed for the blind man's trailer to retrieve a brass dagger, Sam and Christine headed for Mr. Cooper's quarters.

"I'll just wait out here." Christine offered, stopping directly across from the trailer door under a dingy lamp post, next to a garbage bin.

"Wish me luck," Sam flashed her a signature Winchester grin, nonchalantly trying the door to Mr. Cooper's trailer: open.

Christine pulled out her phone, checking the text message Jo had sent her earlier:

_**Do u think Sam and Dean will come 2 the show? I**__**'**__**ll make up an extra bed for Sam. Ooo la la :)**_

Christine smiled at her friend try at getting her all riled up. Jo was not so subtlety implying Dean would be spending the night in Christine's bed. If she hadn't spent a two nights with Dean in her bed already, she would have been so pissed at Jo for even suggesting the idea. Boy was Jo going to flip when she found out.

_**ship**__**'**__**s already sailed darlin**__**' **_ Christine sent to Jo, waiting for the inevitable explosion back. She didn't have to wait more than thirty seconds. Her phone buzzed. Jo sent another message.

_**DETAILS CALL ME ASAP **_Christine chuckled to herself. She'd have to slip away when they got to the motel that night and give Jo a ring.

_**sure thing sugar xo **_ Christine sent back before dropping her phone back into her back pocket.

Suddenly Sam burst through the front door of Mr. Cooper's trailer. A man, most certainly Mr. Cooper, came behind him yelling and waving a shot gun at Sam's head. "Get out and stay out!" The door slammed shut as Sam sheepishly made his way across the dirt pathway to where she stood.

"Obviously he was home?" Christine guessed, falling into step beside Sam. They headed in the general direction of what she presumed to be the blind man's trailer.

"Obviously," Sam grunted. "No bugs." He answered her next question before she could even ask it.

Dean appeared, visibly shaken by something he was whirling around looking for.

"Hey!" Christine shouted at Dean as he ran past them.

"Hey!" Dean answered, coming to a halt, skidding a little in the dirt.

Christine spoke first "So, Cooper thinks Sam is a peeping Tom, but its not him."

"Yeah, so I gathered. It's the blind guy. He's here somewhere." Dean huffed.

"Did you get the-" Sam asked

"Brass blade, no. It's just been one of those days," Dean answered before he could finish.

"Where'd he go?" Sam asked.

"I don't know, ok?" Dean exclaimed, "I went into his trailer, and he told me to check his trunk. I found the clown outfit, and he disappeared into thin air. Then he started throwing knives at me."

"Aww, poor baby." Christine teased, pinching his cheek like Bobby used to do to her when she was younger. Dean swatted her away playfully.

They all took a collective deep breath. "I've got an idea." Sam said, "C'mon, this way!" He took off for the funhouse at the end of the alley. Dean grabbed Christine's upper arm to pull her in close to him as they jogged after Sam.

The trio entered the fun house and immediately a wall slammed shut between Sam and Dean. Christine stood in the doorway as the boys shouted for each other. Sam encouraged them to go through the maze, hoping they would meet up somewhere.

The creepy 'old timey' lilt of the carnival organ set Christine on edge. Its eerie tone made her skin crawl. "That music is enough to give me nightmares." Dean murmured just above her ear as he again drew in in close to his body, as if to shield her from the creature they were hunting.

Nodding, she closed her eyes, trying to block it out of her brain. Suddenly she realized old organ pipes were made of pure brass, that's what gave it that sour tone. "That's it!" Christine exclaimed. "The organ!" She quickly grabbed Dean's arm and ran through the hall of mirrors. She didn't even flinch as they went though what Dean thought for sure was a solid mirror. Thankfully it turned out to be an optical illusion.

"How'd you do that?!" Dean asked when they came to a halt at a crossroads in the maze.

"A girl never shares her secrets, silly." Christine murmured in his ear, giving his earlobe a tug with her teeth. Dean fought back a groan, and shoved her playfully, but meaningfully away from him. They continued down the winding hallway until they reached the steaming pipe organ.

"Hey!" Dean exclaimed to Sam who was working on dislodging a pipe from the organ.

"Hey," Sam shot back, "Where is it?" He asked, still working on getting a pipe out of the organ.

"I don't know," Dean said.

"Shouldn't we see it's clothes walking around?" Christine mused, "I mean-"

Suddenly a knife flew through the air and pinned Dean's jacket to the wall. Another swiftly followed, Christine ducked so it didn't get lodged in her forehead. Instead it pinned Dean's right arm further to the wall. "Sam!" Dean cried, pulling at his jacket. Christine tried to help Dean get unstuck from the wall.

Finally Sam got a pipe free. Turning towards the door, he dodged the knife that suddenly appeared hurtling toward his head. "Dean, where is it?"

"I don't know!" Dean groaned, looking around, trying to figure out a way to get the thing to reveal itself. "Hey!" He shouted to Christine with his eyes on the ceiling.

"Got it!" She shouted, letting go of the knife she was working on, pulling down the lever on the pipe above their heads. Steam began pouring out from the front of the organ.

"Sam!" Christine exclaimed as the silhouette of figure appeared in the steam.

"Behind you!" Dean shouted, still pulling on the knife lodged in the wall.

Sam shoved the pipe backwards, connecting with the creature that loomed behind him. The creature shrieked in pain, Christine finally pulled a knife free. Sam let go of the pipe after twisting it into the creature even further. Dean pulled the second knife free and shut the valve off.

The creature faded away from existence, the organ pipe clattered to the floor. "I friggin' hate funhouses." Dean ground out, wiping the sweat from his brow.

"Right there with ya." Christine agreed, throwing her arm around Sam's neck, earning a grin from him. "Great job Sammy," She teased, play punching him in the ribs. The trio exited the funhouse and hightailed it back the Challenger as nonchalantly as they could manage for fleeing the scene.

* * *

Once they hit the highway, Christine called Bobby to check in and let him know how the cases went.

"Everything's fine, Dad." Christine quietly assured a frazzled Bobby. He expected her home before her gig at the Roadhouse, not off on a hunt with the Winchesters.

Dean glanced over at Christine who was rolling her eyes at something Bobby was telling her. He was surprised to hear her call him 'Dad.' He'd expected her to call him 'Uncle' or just Bobby. He guessed that losing her father at nine and her mother shortly after really solidified the bond they already had. He turned back to ask Sam something, but found him passed out on the bench seat, his tall frame stretched out the length of the car.

"Yes," Christine huffed in an exasperated whisper. "Thanks. Love you too."

_He said __'__I love you__'__? Whoa. Didn__'__t see that coming. _Dean thought as Christine deposited her phone in her lap again. Unable to help himself he found his gaze glued to her thighs. She cleared her throat, causing his eyes to click upward to her face.

"Sorry, bad habit," She giggled, taking her phone and depositing it on the bench seat between them. "Not used to having red blooded males riding in my passenger seat you know."

"You don't hunt with Joel?" He asked before he could stop himself.

"He doesn't count." Christine huffed. "Besides, I thought you weren't scared of him, hmmm?" She teased, glancing at the clock. 10:30PM. They'd been driving for at least four hours. "One more hour and I need to at least catch the hunter four." She knew the boys probably hadn't slept much the night before. Hell, she only got that five minutes she dozed off in front of that poor family's house.

"I can drive," Dean offered, they were still a good six hours from the Roadhouse. They wanted to return for Ash's info on the demon, it was pure convenience she had a gig there as well.

"I'm sure you can. I just don't really fancy sleeping while we're moving." She glanced sideways at Dean, "Tends to give me nightmares."

He nodded, too tired to explore that statement at the moment. He pulled out the road atlas she kept in the passenger door cubby. After a few moments He said, "Looks like there's a small town in about fifty miles. We can pull in there and find a place to bunk for the night."

"Sounds like a plan." Christine sighed with a yawn. She reached across his lap to the glove box and found her copy of Raised On Radio by Journey. Popping that in, she turned down the volume as to not disturb Sam. If she was going to be on the road another hour, she might as well have Mr. Steve Perry serenade her, right?

* * *

_from the author__'__s desk__…_

_Stuck In The Middle With You - Steelers Wheel - This song just makes me thing of where Christine and Dean are right now. They__'__re doing this little dance around each other, trying to figure out where each other fits in their established lives. Plus I like the lyric reference to clowns. Poor Sammy! _

_I hope no one throws tomatoes at me for my dismissal of Jo and Dean romance. I don__'__t really think they had romance on the show, it was mostly angst. I__'__m still planning on a little tension and angst. Jo is a little more reckless and wild than Christine, so that will peak Dean__'__s interest. Christine would__'__ve been just like Jo if she didn__'__t have Bobby, that I__'__m completely sure of. _

_Up next is the conclusion of __"__Everybody Loves A Clown__" __with my own personal twist__…__here goes nothing!_

_Thank you for all the follows/favorites and reviews. You all rock and are totally awesome. I freaking love this fandom. _

_xoxo_

_Lumora the White_


	11. Caught Up In You

**Long, Long Way From Home**

_Previously…_

"_I can drive,__" __Dean offered, they were still a good six hours from the Roadhouse. They wanted to return not only for Christine__'__s gig, but for Ash__'__s info on the demon. _

"_I__'__m sure you can. I just don__'__t really fancy sleeping while we__'__re moving.__" __She glanced sideways at Dean, __"__Tends to give me nightmares.__" _

_He nodded, pulling out the road atlas she kept in the passenger door cubby. After a few moments He said, __"__Looks like there__'__s a small town in about fifty miles. We can pull in there and find a place to bunk for the night.__" _

"_Sounds like a plan.__" __Christine sighed with a yawn. She reached across his lap to the glove box and found her copy of Raised On Radio by Journey. Popping that in, she turned down the volume as to not disturb Sam. If she was going to be on the road another hour, she might as well have Mr. Steve Perry serenade her, right?_

* * *

**CONTENT WARNING : This is where we begin to earn our**** "M" rating. Enjoy. **

**Chapter 11 : Caught Up In You**

Story City, Iowa proved to be a great stopping point. Dean even dozed off a little against the passenger window, though he'd totally deny it if you asked him. Once she pulled off the highway, the yellow Super 8 sign beckoned her to rest. Dean went in to see about getting a room and Sam wandered off to find the restroom. Christine leaned against the driver's door, pulling out her phone. She called Bobby and left a message. He was probably busy on the phone with another hunter. He would at least relax enough to get some sleep knowing she was off the road for the night. Then she found Jo's number and pressed send.

"Harvelle," Jo answered, balancing a tray of beer bottles she just cleared from a few empty tables.

"Hey sugar," Christine said, they were always calling each other pet names, helped fend off unwanted attention while alone on a hunt. It also worked nicely in their favor that both of their names could be shortened to predominately male pronunciations.

"Chris!" Jo exclaimed, she'd been too preoccupied to check the caller ID. "You owe me some juicy details, now spill!"

"Dean's inside getting a room and Sam's wandered off. I don't have much time…" Christine explained, her eyes darting around, making sure the coast was still clear.

"Don't drag your feet then!" Jo exclaimed in a whisper as she passed her mother, flashing her a cheery nose wrinkled smirk.

"Okay, okay," Christine took a deep breath, Her eyes closed just a for moment trying to get in the moment. Then she remembered she was supposed to be looking out for the boys. She looked around one more time for good measure then she whispered, "He kissed me, well actually I kissed him."

Jo's shriek of delight caused her to pull away the phone from her ear. "Where?"

"On my bed." Christine mumbled back, still mortified she was actually sharing these details with Jo.

"Not geographic location silly," Jo giggled, then her voice dropped a few notes, "On your mouth, neck, maybe something naughtier?" She was clearly enjoying this.

"First on his open palm," Christine gulped, her eyes drifting closed to better focus on the moment, "Then he pulled me closer, and his mouth was so close to mine, I couldn't help myself-"

"So you kissed him! Ah!" Jo gushed, "How did he react, did he kiss you back?" She asked, stepping through the back door and into the night.

"Oh yeah," Christine sighed in remembrance, "We totally made out. Then he stayed the night, just held me. I thought maybe there was something wrong with me and he didn't really want to be with me that way, but the next night it happened again."

"Maybe he's just taking his time," Jo sighed. She sounded a little wounded, but still happy. If Christine didn't know her so well, she wouldn't have caught the slightly sour note in her tone.

"Jo…? What's wrong?" Christine prodded, her eyes closing in frustration. It wouldn't do to have a man come between them, even if he was Dean Winchester.

"Nothing, I'm just used to being on the other end of this conversation." Jo sighed again. It was true, though usually she was turning the men down, not inviting them into her bed. "I take it you've stopped for the night?" She asked, waving a regular pulling out of the parking lot.

"Yeah, I'm beat. We had a stake out last night, and unlike Dean, I didn't get any sleep. Sam tells me he snored for a good couple of hours." Christine turned towards the car to find Dean leaning with his elbows against the passenger side, hands clasped, resting on the roof.

Dean emerged from the front office with room keys in hand to find Christine leaning against the driver's door of the Challenger, on the phone. He assumed it was just Bobby until he heard her say, "Hey sugar." _Wait. That couldn't be right. _He thought. He quietly came around the car next to her, crouched down, trying to remain out of sight. Then she said Jo's name and he immediately popped up and came over to the passenger side. Christine still hadn't turned around to check for him or Sam so he waited, leaning on the door frame.

Christine's eyes widened in shock as she realized he was standing within earshot. Jo started to speak but Chris quickly cut her off, "Gotta go Jo, see you tomorrow by noon, let the boys know if they arrive before me. I'll be there." With that she clicked off her phone, not even waiting for Jo to reply.

Jo stared down at her cell phone when Christine ended the call. Chris was so busted! She would be too if she didn't head back inside and help her mother close up. With one last deep breath of cool night air she returned to the bar.

"Hey there," Dean's voice was gruff, sounding like sandpaper on wood. Christine glanced at her phone, 11:45PM. Considering they hadn't slept in almost 36 hours, it was really late.

"Hey," Christine squeaked back, opening the car door and sliding inside. Dean followed suit as the engine roared to life. Christine put Roxy into gear and backed out.

"Room 12. Down at the end on the left." Dean said softly, sliding his arm around her shoulders.

All Christine could do was nod. _How much did he hear? Oh God. If he heard the part where I wasn't sure if he wanted to have sex with me…I'll die. I'll just die…_Christine couldn't help but worry about what Dean heard. She knew of Dean's womanizer reputation from other hunters she ran into or did jobs with. She maneuvered Roxy into a space at the end of the lot a few spaces from the door with the number '12' plastered on it. She took the key out of the ignition and dropped them in her jacket pocket. She started to open the door, but Dean's voice stopped her.

"Wait," He sighed with frustration. Christine let go of the door handle and turned a little to face him. "I'm sorry."

_He's sorry? For What?_ "For What?" Christine asked aloud this time, her left eyebrow lifted in inquiry.

"For eavesdropping." Dean said, his eyes never leaving hers as he scooted along the seat so his arm was completely around her shoulders. He pulled her a little closer to him, a little more into the middle of the bench. This wasn't how Dean Winchester dealt with women. He never apologized. Even when he was a complete and total ass. He just didn't do this…

"Okay," Christine whispered, eyeing him suspiciously.

"I mean it," Dean said, his fingers warm along her jawline. "Jo is your friend. You just threw me when you used the pet name, so I listened to make sure you weren't talking to Joel or some other guy that way. I can see why you and Jo use them."

"They work," She said with a nod, trying desperately to remain focused on anything but the way her body seemed to fit deliciously in his was a dream. It had to be, Dean Winchester was apologizing, He came closer still, until his lips were almost touching hers.

Before his lips touched hers he whispered, "This is okay, right?" Never had a woman made him babble so much.

"Shut up Winchester and just kiss me already!" Christine warned, her fingers delving into his short hair.

The kiss was intense. She could feel heat pooling between her thighs where she'd dropped her phone and felt his gaze earlier. He bit her bottom lip, pulling her closer, away from the door so he could lay her down on the bench seat. His lips trailed fiery kisses down her throat to her collarbone as he loomed over her. One of His hands left her hair, ghosting over her shoulder and collarbone to rest at her waist. His fingers began teasing the flesh just below her waistband at her hip.

"Dean," Christine panted, drawing his gaze back up to her face. "I'm so tired I can't hardly think straight."

Dean smiled, making her insides turn to liquid, "This doesn't require thinking." He placed a kiss to the soft flesh he had exposed at her waist.

Christine smiled knowingly, he was trying to drown his hurt and grief in her body. It was fine, she could take it. She also knew that if she let Dean take her now, he'd never forgive himself. Dean was definitely a hopeless romantic at heart. Their friendship would be shattered if she let him continue. "No," Christine said softly. Dean's lips immediately left her flesh and he looked up at her.

"No?" Dean asked as she sat up, her hand cupping his jaw.

She nodded, leaning in and pressing a kiss to his stunned lips. "No." She breathed over his parted lips. "Dean, I need you. You_ think _you need me. I'm willing to be patient enough as to not let your grief dictate whether we-"

"But-" Dean protested with a groan, he almost sounded like he was in pain. She placed a finger over his lips.

"We've only just started over. It's only been two weeks Dean! Before that it was ten years. Let's not fuck it all to hell, okay?" Christine whispered, sitting back against the bench seat, untangling herself from his arms. She really cared about him. "This life is too unpredictable for me to just lose myself in the moment. I don't think I'll survive you leaving again," She took a chance and glanced at him, He looked a little hurt. She took a deep breath and continued, "especially not after we, well after you and I have, well you know…" She trailed off, crossing her arms and staring out the windshield.

He could tell she was having trouble coming out and saying it, "sex, Chris. After you and I have sex." Dean finished for her with a smirk. Christine was different alright, and it drove him wild.

Christine felt her cheeks redden with embarrassment. At least now she knew she was just another conquest. Asking Dean Winchester to commit to something was like asking him to cut off his right arm.

He let out an exasperated sigh, "Son of a bitch." He sat back against the seat, his left arm resting along the back, the other skimming the back of his neck. Maybe she was right, maybe sex between them would be something different. Did he really want to risk their friendship? Christine could tell he was trying to figure out what to say. "Look, I ah. I usually don't do this type of thing. I'm used to-"

"Getting in and getting out." Christine spat, filling in his words crudely, her eyes flashing with anger. "And never looking back, right? I get it."

"No, Chris. I don't think you do." Dean said coldly, his anger rising, "I've just lost my Dad for Christ's sake. And you and I-" He barked a bitter laugh, "You and I are just like when I was sixteen."

"You say it like it's a bad thing," She shot back with a shy grin, her anger relenting. "You forget I know what you're feeling. Unfortunately that hole doesn't quite go away no matter how many things you try to fill it with." His eyes glittered at her in the darkness.

He could tell she was being honest. Not many people admitted to failure that easily. He sighed, "Yeah, here I thought I finally had a chance to help you find out what this life was like with a Dad and I go and lose-" He stopped and shook his head. "I've screwed up enough in my life. I don't want to screw this up." He whispered, his fingers playing with a few curls that had come loose from her braid.

Christine glanced at the clock, 12:10AM. "Its late. I'm tired. You're tired. We've got Sam in the same room as us, that should help us behave, right Winchester?" She yawned with a wink. Dean smiled, pushing open the passenger door. Christine exited the driver's side and went to the trunk to retrieve her duffle bag. She might be a hunter, but she was still a woman. Soap and clean clothes were a welcomed necessity.

Dean shut the trunk and followed her up to the room, opening the door and ushering her inside. The bathroom light was left on, giving the room a dim lit glow. Sam was already sprawled out in the bed closest to the door, his tall frame taking up most of the mattress. Dean shot her a his best puppy dog eyes look. "Fine," she mouthed, earning a signature Winchester grin complete with a wink. Dean disappeared into the bathroom while she sorted through her bag for a few toiletries and pajamas. The shower came on and ran a little longer than usual for Dean. She settled on the couch, going over the set list she had written while doing surveillance on the boys. The water shut off and Christine gathered her things. A few minutes later he reappeared, clad in a pair of boxers and nothing else. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him in the doorway. She swallowed thickly and made her way past him into the tiny room. Before she could change her mind, she quickly shut the door and leaned against it. God dammit, he was attractive.

Dean sat on the edge of bed for a moment, listening to the lack of movement in the bathroom. He could read all over her face that if Sam wasn't in this room, they wouldn't be sleeping for at least an hour. He wondered what it would be like to hunt with just her. Sam was the best hunter he knew besides his father. Christine showed that she had the guts to face a creature and keep her cool while avoiding authorities. He knew she was a fighter from their training sessions growing up. A few years back, it was nice to hear and now finally witness that she'd embraced the life like he had.

* * *

**June 22, 2003**

"**Christine Elliott? Great hunter, but truth be told, she's insane." The man behind the bar said, " A **_**real**_** looker though," He offered with a smile.**

**Dean sat at the end of the bar, somewhere in middle of nowhere Pennsylvania nursing a beer. He'd just hunted down a monster in a little village along the bay in New York, he wasn't sure what to call the thing. He took the monster down, only to discover a young boy in the house. The boy looked to be completely normal, so he left him unharmed and drove all night. **

"**Insane? Why'd you say that?" Dean asked, staring at his reflection in the mirror behind the bottles. **_**I wonder if Christine would consider me a looker…**_**He thought, studying the fine lines that had begun to form around his eyes.**

"**Well, for starters, she hunts alone." The bartender said, "A woman should never hunt alone. Not trying to be sexist, just think it's asking for trouble is all." **

**Dean nodded, taking a swig of beer, winking at a woman who was smiling at him at the other end of the bar. **

"**Why'd you ask?" The guy prodded, wiping down the glossy wood surface. **

"**I knew her when we were kids." Dean said, polishing off the bottle.**

"**Really? I hear she's up in Sioux Falls, living with that crazy old drunk-"**

"**Bobby Singer." Dean finished with a nod. Good to hear she was still at Bobby's. Maybe there was a chance he'd get to see her again. **

**The bartender nodded, "Yeah, great hunter, but he's definitely crazy."**

"**Aren't we all?" Dean said standing up, placing a few bills on the bar. "Thanks."**

* * *

During his trip down memory lane he managed to get into bed, laying on the half closest to the door and Sam. He just started to drift off when Christine emerged from the bathroom. Her outfit told him she wasn't anticipating having to share a bed with him. She wore a hooded sweatshirt and sweatpants. He discovered from the few nights they spent together she was quite the cold sleeper. Definitely a great comfort since he always slept so hot. She climbed into bed, facing away from him. He took the opportunity to spoon her, "Relax Chris, try to get some sleep." he whispered in her ear.

"God dammit!" Christine swore under her breath after a few moments. With Dean pressed up against her, the sweats she wore were becoming like a sauna. She sat up and pulled the sweatshirt up over her head revealing a simple black tank top, and from the delightful bounce of her breasts, Dean ventured, no bra. "This is so friggin' embarrassing!" She exclaimed in a whisper as she stood up and stripped off the sweatpants. Red lacy underwear toyed with his imagination as she climbed back into bed.

Dean decided that just because they were keeping their hands to themselves, didn't mean he couldn't tell her how delicious she looked, "The things I would do to you if Sammy wasn't in the next bed." His breath hot in her ear as he continued, "I've thought about touching you, about getting you alone, all to myself…"

His voice alone was doing things to her she'd only ever read about. Her insides felt like they had burst into flame. Christine swallowed a moan of frustration, "Dean,' She breathed, pushing back against his chest and hips, grinding hesitantly against his arousal she felt pressing into her ass.

The hell with keeping his hands to himself, "Shhhh," He urged gently, she could feel lips form into a smile against her bare shoulder. His right hand left her waist and smoothed down her hip to play with the waist band of her panties.

Christine's mind raced. She felt conflicted about letting Dean touch her like this, yet it felt so damn good. She heard Jo's voice inside her head, '_live a little Christine, you need to lighten up.__' _

Deans left hand came around her neck to rest lightly over her mouth. "Just a little precaution," He whispered into her ear, his tongue tracing the outer shell while he waggled his fingers, showing her what he meant, "I have a feeling you're a screamer."

Christine couldn't help the whimper that escaped her throat. She felt her cheeks flame.

"I like screamers," Dean said roughly. Using his hand to tilt her head so he could claim her mouth with his own, stifling her scream of panic mixed with pleasure as his other hand slid lower. His forefinger stroked her folds softly, they had already begun to glisten. "Oh, already a little wet, " He hummed turning her head gently away from him again, his hand still covering her mouth. "Do you like that, baby?" He asked, continuing to stroke her.

Christine was losing herself in the way he pressed up against her, softly grinding his arousal against her. Maybe it was having Sam was only yards away, or it was the fact she'd never even done this to herself let alone let a man touch her this way that made this feel surreptitious and surreal. Her mind began to melt as his fingers parted her. This was completely new territory. She nodded minutely and continued to pressed back against him urgently. She was rewarding with a groan and a low chuckle. He pulled away for a moment, offering her his first finger. She shook with the weight of the moment and took his digit in her mouth, sucking lightly. This earned her a deep groan that reverberated through his chest, she went still, trying to be mindful of Sam in the bed next to them.

Dean pressed his lips to her ear, "How about this?" He returned to her liquid hot center, inserting the newly christened digit. Christine's entire body went still. Then he slowly withdrew his finger, causing her entire body to pulse with pleasure. He continued stroking for a few moments, gently grazing her clit with his thumb.

Christine turned her head, her left had coming up to pull his face down to hers so she could kiss his lips hungrily. Dean deepened the kiss while increasing his ministrations. They parted to breathe, Christine swallowing moan after moan of pleasure, biting her lip. Dean added a second finger, skimming over just the right spot, causing her walls to spasm. His thumb continued to circle her clit, and her whole body shuddered and keened with pleasure.

"Oh, you're so close, baby," he crooned in her ear, his breathing become as ragged as her own, "This feeling, don't try to hold on to it. Let go, baby, let go." He urged gently, his right hand turning her head again so he could claim her mouth as he felt her nearing the edge of oblivion. Dean fought to keep his own arousal in check. She was driving him crazy. "That's it baby, come for me." He murmured against her mouth, "Come for me, Chris." At the sound of her name on his lips, Christine toppled over the edge, her body shaking with the force of her orgasm. He swallowed her cry of ecstasy and kissed her softly as the afterglow settled in. Dean turned onto his back, bringing her with him. He brought his fingers up to his mouth, sucking them gently. "Mmmm, you taste even better than I imagined." He purred in her ear, his nose nuzzling her hair.

Christine's cheeks flamed with embarrassment, but she couldn't wipe the smile of satisfaction of her face. She turned over, facing him. She took a deep breath and reached out her left hand in search of the evidence of his arousal. She'd at least read about sex, and watched a few R rated movies. Jo talked about it like it was the best thing since Jaeger both shared an unhealthy love of Jaegermeister. She felt his hardness, and stroked her fingers down his entire length. She'd never had a face to face encounter with an erect penis before, but instinct told her this one was big.

Dean watched Christine relax into the afterglow, heck maybe her first afterglow ever. He hadn't planned on getting so incredibly turned on by getting her off like that. He couldn't help himself, he needed to touch her, to make her understand how much he wanted her. His erection was at full mast and Christine reached out for it. He let out a low hiss as her fingers stroked his length through the fabric. Her eyes grew wide as his hips bucked towards her touch. "Careful there baby girl," Dean warned, his gaze hot and heavy lidded. Suddenly Sam turned over with a grunt. Both lovers froze, Dean stilling her hand with his own. Sam let loose a sigh and his breathing evened out again. "So much for Sammy helping us behave." Dean quipped, letting go of her hand, rolling over on top of her. He kneed her legs apart, settling his weight on top of her, letting her feel his erection against her core. Her eyes drifted closed and she bit her lip. He leaned down and claimed her mouth in a few long, searing kisses. He lifted himself off her, and she immediately felt bereft of the intimacy they had just shared. He leaned down, settling the covers around her. "Get some sleep, sweetness." He kissed her temple and disappeared into the bathroom. The shower coming on told her he was just as turned on and restless as she felt when she initially got into bed. With a soft smile playing at her lips she drifted into dreamland.

Dean stood under the freezing cold spray, letting the water deluge across his face. Dear sweet Lord have mercy. He'd gotten plenty of women off like that before, but he'd never almost come in his pants while doing it. Christine brought him to a new level of arousal without even trying, imagined if she did try…He knew it was only a matter of time before he lost complete control. Her firm, supple body was maddening, the way she responded so shamelessly left him breathless. He had to keep himself in check. He didn't want to rush her and fuck this up. Shutting off the shower, he stepped out and quickly dried off. He returned to the bedroom to find Christine fast asleep. He slid under the covers and settled next to her. As if sensing his presence, she rolled towards him, settling against him, leg thrown over his, pretty blonde head pillowed on his chest. He sighed, closing his eyes. This was going to be some adventure.

* * *

_from the author's desk…_

_Caught Up In You - .38 Special - I think this might be the perfect song for Dean and Christine in this moment. This song makes me smile, and I think Dean has fallen harder for Chris than he thought he would. _

_I need to stop making promises. Next chapter, we're finally back at the Roadhouse, a little mix of day drinking, nap time and after party for your enjoyment._

_xoxo_

_Lumora the White_


	12. Stand Up (Kick Love Into Motion)

**Long, Long Way From Home**

_Previously…_

_Dean stood under the freezing cold spray, letting the water deluge across his face. Dear sweet Lord have mercy. He'd gotten plenty of women off like that before, but he'd never almost come in his pants while doing it. Christine brought him to a new level of arousal without even trying, imagine if she did try…He knew it was only a matter of time before he lost complete control. Her firm, supple body was maddening, the way she responded so shamelessly left him breathless. He had to keep himself in check. He didn't want to rush her and fuck this up. Shutting off the shower, he stepped out and quickly dried off. He returned to the bedroom to find Christine fast asleep. He slid under the covers and settled next to her. As if sensing his presence, she rolled towards him, settling against him, leg thrown over his, pretty blonde head pillowed on his chest. He sighed, closing his eyes. This was going to be some adventure. _

**CONTENT WARNING : rated "M" for a very delicious reason. Enjoy. **

**Chapter 12 : Stand Up (Kick Love Into Motion)**

**Harvelle's Roadhouse**

Ellen cracked open two beers setting them before Sam and Dean "Hell of a job you boys did."

"Thanks Ellen," Sam answered, taking a swig of beer.

"Don't forget about Chris, Mom." Jo chimed in, entering the bar with a box of beer in her hands. Christine stood across the room, lost in her own thoughts, staring at a picture of John Winchester, Bill Harvelle, Bobby Singer and her father, James Elliott. They were all sitting right here in this bar, laughing about something James was saying. He was the only one with a semi serious face. He was also infamous for talking with his hands, further evidenced by his outstretched arms. Ellen must have snapped the photo, it looked like it was taken from behind the bar. It was strange to think all the men in the picture were dead. Well, except for Bobby.

"To Chris," Dean said, raising his beer. Sam followed suit and with a nod, they both drank.

"Cheers," She mumbled turning around, taking a swig of the almost empty beer in her hand. Ash emerged from his lair coming over to her before greeting the boys.

"Well Sam's my uncle, Christine Elliott!" He exclaimed coming to stand by her, as she turned around again. looking at the picture covered wall, "Ellen tells me Elliott and the Breakaway Creation are playing tonight. I'm stoked!" He held up a rock fist.

She sighed, "Thanks Ash," She glanced sideways at him with a tight smile.

He noticed the smile didn't quite reach her eyes. He put his arm around her shoulders, "What's eating your goat?" He asked, lips pressed to her ear.

"I guess its just strange, seeing pictures of John and my Dad together, now that John's…" She trailed off. She took a quick breath and let it out, fingers running through her long blonde hair, "I guess I though I'd always have a chance to ask John what my Dad was like. Sure, I knew he was a loving father, but I wanted to know what he was like as a hunter. I'm afraid Bobby won't really tell me the truth." She was always close with Ash. He seemed like the older brother she never had.

"Ah. That's the rub, ain't it? Bobby's a good man, but like those Winchesters over there," He pointed across the room, drawing her gaze to the bar. "overprotective as hell." Ash said in his usually over dramatic way. It was the perfect delivery to lighten the mood, but stay true to her feelings without making them seem insignificant or childish.

Dean had turned around so his back was against the bar. He was spying on her! _Case and point…_She mused, polishing off the beer, avoiding meeting Dean's eyes by swiftly turning to face the picture wall again.

"Ash!" Ellen called from the bar.

"Gotta go sweetheart, duty calls." Ash sighed and kissed her cheek, squeezing her one more time before he released her.

Dean watched as Ash threw his arm around Christine's shoulders and kissed her ear. He stiffened and let out a deep sigh. "Relax, Dean-o" Jo said mirroring his stance, leaning back against the bar and flashing him a knowing smile, "Ash and Chris are like two peas in a pod. He's like a big brother for the both of us." Dean nodded, and turned to greet Ash as he walked up to the bar.

"You boys staying for the gig tonight?" Jo asked the brothers, twirling a lock of blonde hair between her fingertips.

Dean nodded, and Sam pipped in, "Yeah, don't really have much choice, Roxy being our ride and all."

"Oh right, ditched the soccer mom mobile huh?" Jo giggled, leaning into Dean a little. Man, was she coming on strong. After last night with Chris, Jo could potentially be a welcomed distraction. He was frustrated as hell. Then reason reminded him they were best friends, sisters almost. Plus, he liked his women slightly more mysterious. Like the blonde drowning her sorrows over by the picture wall. On second thought, not so good of a distraction.

Ellen caught the exchange between Dean and Jo. She could tell her daughter was interested in the now eldest Winchester for more than being a damn good hunter. Even if she was just intrigued by his hunter status, there was no way in hell Jo was going to live that life, not on her watch. "Joanna Beth," She snapped, "I thought I told you to wipe down the back bar too."

Jo groaned and rolled her eyes, "Yes, Mom." She stuck out her tongue and left the bar, her hips swaying in a teasing manner. Dean couldn't help himself as he stared after her. She wasn't as curvy as Chris, though her attitude more than made up for her physical stature… A beer bottle being set down on the bar top jarred him out of his reverie.

Christine hopped up on the stool next to him, listening intently as Ash explained his rig to them. She pretended to ignore the jealousy laced glare from Dean. Dean asked to see Ash's rig, but all Christine could focus on was the way he had looked at Jo. She remembered that look. Melissa, a girl in her class at school, lived down the street from Bobby. She would come over to play, especially when Dean and Sam were there. She didn't like cars and playing rough. She would swing on the tire strung up in the yard and stare at Dean. Dean would stare right back. Christine got chills of dread just thinking about it.

Christine leaned over the bar top, searching for something, "Hey Jo," Christine called to the petite blonde as she reentered behind the main bar. "Hit me." She ordered, setting down a shot glass she snagged from just below the bar surface.

"Tequila or Jager?" Jo asked with a saucy grin. She liked to see Chris loosen up a little. It made the tension humming between the three of them even more interesting.

"Jager," Chris decided with a cheeky grin, "I'll switch to tequila after the gig."

"Sounds like a plan," Jo giggled, as she opened the bottle of Jagermeister and poured her a shot, "Shall I-"

"Open a tab?" Christine finished for her, " Aw, hell yeah," She nodded, downing the shot, giving a little shout, "Hit me again."

"It's your funeral," Jo huffed, pouring her another shot.

"Damn straight." Christine murmured, glancing sideways at the brooding man beside her.

Dean couldn't believe his eyes. Christine Elliott was doing shots of Jagermeister. Straight up. "Hit me," Dean said, flipping up a shot glass he swiped from the beneath the bar top, setting it down in front of him.

Jo cocked an eyebrow, "You want a tab too?" She asked, pouring him the shot.

Dean slammed it and with a grimace said, "Sure, add her's to mine."

"Not so fast, cowboy." Christine purred, "You're doing shots with me, I'll take care of you." She downed the second shot, "Hit me." She said to Jo, giving Dean a wink.

"Oh I bet you will," He drawled, watching her toss her head, hair cascading down her back. He leaned back, boldly letting his eyes trail from her head to her toes. She'd changed into denim shorts and a black tank top.

The unmistakable flirtatious tone in his voice made Christine come up short. "Did you just _flirt _with me, Winchester?" She eyed him carefully, swiveling on her stool to face him.

"Maybe. What are you gonna do about it?" He teased. Damn, she was sexy. He downed the second shot. Damn it all to hell. He was in deeper than he thought. Watching her eyes flash with excitement, and mischief was enough to get his motor running. He shifted slightly, trying to alleviate some of the pressure building in his jeans.

"Oh, I don't know…" She trailed off, grasping the third shot of Jager set before her on the bar. "Maybe…no, it wouldn't be fair." She downed the shot, "Hit me," Jo opened her mouth to protest. "Last one, promise." She purred, giving Dean a wink. Jo poured the shot and Christine twirled the glass between her fingers on the bar.

Good God this woman could drink. He downed his third shot, "Hit me," He murmured as Christine got up from her stool, glass in hand. He followed suit, and once the shot was poured he picked it up. "Last one," He gave her a nod, "What should we drink to?" He asked suddenly. Maybe the alcohol was effecting him quicker than he calculated.

Christine let loose a little girlish giggle, more from the pure fun of drinking with Dean than the actual alcohol. "Why, adventure, of course!" She raised her glass, to meet his. With a soft clink, the pair downed their last shot, slamming the glasses down on the bar.

Jo watched as Christine and Dean drank to adventure. She loved being friends with Christine, most of the time they were almost like sisters. Now she couldn't help feel jealous of Christine's life. She didn't have a mother around telling her that the life of a hunter was not the life for her. She was practically raised in the life, just like Dean. Dean seemed to be just as interested in her, if not more, than she was in him. It made her a little sick. Adventure. Really? She capped the bottle of Jager and stored it in the cooler under the bar back. She collected the glasses and busied herself with prep for tonight's show.

"Wanna shoot some pool?" He asked, pulling her with him to the pool table in the back of the room.

The Jager pulsing through her system made the fact that Dean was checking out Jo earlier hurt a hell of a lot less. Jager always seemed to mellow out her anxiety. Tonight's show was a little nerve wrecking because she was debuting a new song. Joel asked her to sing "Ready For Love" by Bad Company a few weeks back. She agreed, not anticipating having Dean Winchester in the audience. Maybe shooting some pool would help her blow off some steam. She was a badass at this game anyway, she'd learned from the best.

"You're on." Christine answered, tossing him a pool stick. "I'll break."

For the next hour they played, sometimes Dean would come up behind her and "help" her line up a tough shot. She had the feeling it was just an excuse to be near her. During one particular shot, she would've bet money she heard him groan when she pushed her ass a little more firmly against his hips, wiggling just a little.

"I think I'm going to lay down for awhile." Christine called to Jo, hanging up her pool stick. "Come get me when the boys arrive?" She asked coming over to the bar where Jo was stocking beer. The clock read 12:30pm. The boys were due by 3pm for sound check. The roadhouse opened at 5pm for regular dinner service.

Jo nodded. "I'll either call your cell, or come back and get you. Depends on what else Mom has planned for me."

Dean lingered by the pool table, uncertain if he'd be welcome in her bed. She wanted rest. His downstairs brain had other ideas.

"You coming, cowboy?" Christine asked from the back door, offering him a shy sexy smile.

Dean glanced around; Sam and Ash were huddled over a Ash's computer. Ellen and Jo were no where in sight, probably getting ready for tonight's gig. He pointed at his chest. "Me?" He asked. She nodded, a dangerous look in her eyes, disappearing through the doorframe. "Aw, hell yeah." He drawled, striding across the room and exiting the main building.

He found himself in a back hallway of sorts, it twisted and turned around a few dozen shelves of back stock and alcohol. He passed a few doors, all of them closed. The last door on the left was open just a crack. Bingo. He pushed it open slightly, peering inside.

Christine reached the room she always used when EATBC had a gig at the Roadhouse, or when she was in the area. It was simple, a double bed made up with gray sheets and a black comforter. She put a Pyromania poster on the wall opposite, just for fun, a couple of summers back. The chest of drawers sat empty, save for the top drawer where she'd stashed her go bag. After drawing the simple black curtains, she turned on lamp on the top of the chest, giving the room a soft glow. She sat on the edge of the bed to strip off her black cowboy boots.

Dean found Christine sitting the edge of a double bed, stripping off her boots. He entered the room, kicking the door shut behind him. He stood before her, watching her revel in softness of the deep purple shag rug after stripping off her socks. Before she could move, he was on his knees between her legs, his hands going for the button on her shorts, pushing up her black tank top.

"Dean," Christine moaned at the contact of his skin on hers. "Wait," She breathed as he unbuttoned her fly, her hands covering his.

He sat back on his heels. "I want you," He murmured.

"Sure about that?" She asked, leaning forward a little. "Seems to me you're interested in another hot little blonde around here."

Dean blinked. She must've caught his internal conversation earlier. "Chris, I don't think you under-"

"Oh, I understand perfectly, Dean-o." Christine was on her feet. Dean rose as well. "You looked at Jo just like you used to look at little miss perfect Melissa."

"Who?" Dean asked, earning a glare from Christine.

"Really, Dean?" She asked, "Melissa, the girl who'd come over and stare at you. You'd just stare right back. I thought for sure you'd come back to see her even if you never came back for me." Even as she said it, it did seem pretty ridiculous.

Dean wracked his brain for who the hell she was talking about. "Creepy tire swing girl?" He asked after a moment. How could she think he liked creepy tire swing girl?

"Yes!" Christine exclaimed. "Wait, you don't remember practically undressing her with your eyes?"

Dean finally understood what Christine was so upset about. She wanted him to only have eyes for her. Even back then. Damn he was in trouble. How did he prove to her that he'd been searching for someone like her since he discovered what love was. He was constantly comparing the women he met to her. Did they smile like Chris? Did they eat their knuckles and giggle while a pretty blush spread across their cheeks? Did they let him be, not try to figure out a whole future in one night? The list went on. "No, I don't!" He shouted, chest heaving. He took a deep breath, "Chris," Dean gently grasped her arm and led them over to the bed to sit down, turning towards her, their knees brushing. "I like Jo, she's cute."

"I told her-" Christine began to protest.

"Now you wait a minute, hear me out." Dean commanded, forcing her to swallow what she was going to say. "She's cute, in a school girl sort of way. Now you, you are." He let out a breath and swallowed. "You're gorgeous. Mysterious, maddeningly sexy, and a damn good entertainer. Sometimes I think I can't keep a hold of you. Like, you're out of my league or something…" He mumbled the last part, knowing he had the Jager to thank for how loose his tongue had become.

"Gorgeous? Out of your league? Seriously Dean, have you looked in the mirror lately?" Christine asked, her hands coming up to cup his face softly. "You're the one who's gorgeous, mysterious, and maddeningly sexy. Sometimes I think I'll never keep up with you. Some girl like Jo will sink her teeth into you and you'll never look my way again…" She let go of his face, her gaze dropping to her lap.

Dean leaned in and pulled her into his lap, forcing her to wrap her legs around his waist. She was eating her knuckles again. He gently pulled her fist away from her mouth, kissing it. "How can I get it through your silly head that I need you? I've missed you so much, Chris. I know I'm seriously fucked up right now, so it seems like its just my grief talking. Losing my Dad has made me realize I don't want to do this life like him. I don't want to be alone. Sure, I've got Sammy, but I've never needed anyone like I need you."

Christine searched his eyes. He seemed to be telling her the absolute honest truth. She bit down on her lip. She had an argument with her mother once over whether or not she should love Dean Winchester. Granted her mother was a mental case, and her visits were often a mixed experience of lucidity and insanity. She recalled what her mother had said; _Dean Winchester is a boy who will need a good, strong woman. He might use her up, then again, loving her might set him free. Its up to you if you want to shoulder that burden and take that chance. _"Well," She said playfully, grabbing his shirt collar, "You can definitely start by kissing me." She didn't even get a chance to breathe before his mouth crashed over hers, hands tangled in her hair.

Dean groaned into her hot mouth as Christine ground herself against his lap, her eyes drifted closed, cheeks flushed and breathing ragged. He briefly wondered if she even knew what her body was doing. He swiftly locked her arms around his neck, and attacked her fly again.

She leaned one shoulder into him, and let go of his neck, her hands finding his belt buckle. Her eyes widened as she realized he was already rock hard. Dean moaned in her ear as her fingers stroked him through his jeans, his lips trailing down to the base of her throat. He bit her collarbone, earning a surprised pleasure-pain moan from her. His lips returned to her ear, "You sure, baby?" His voice was raw, breathing erratic.

Christine's face broke into a shy smile as she tossed her hair back out of her face. Biting her lip, her eyes met his as she nodded. His gaze was hot and heavy lidded. He could see a sliver of uncertainty, but the fire between them was too hot to ignore. Dean firmly grasped her hips, lifting her off of him, settling her back on the edge of the bed. He stood up and stripped off his boots, socks and jeans revealing his maroon plaid boxers.

Christine took a deep breath to steady herself. "What is it with you Winchesters and plaid?" She asked playfully, toying with a few of her curls.

After stripping off his t-shirt, Dean reassumed his position on the floor between her legs. He firmly grasped the waist band of her shorts, shimmying them off her hips and down her legs. He tossed them behind him, "It's classic?" He shrugged, taking in the sight of her. Her long, pale legs gave root to a glorious midsection, clad in black lacy panties this time, her tank top was pushed up a little, revealing a firm, silky stomach. He leaned in and pulled the top up and off, flinging in the same direction as her shorts. Her ample breasts were gently cupped in a silk and lace black bra, "Matching set?" He asked, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to her breastbone.

"You a lingerie man, Winchester?" She asked with a sexy grin, burying her hands in his hair.

"I enjoy when a woman saves some of her glory just for me." Dean divulged, watching how his voice affected her body. She arched towards him, and he reached around and skillfully unclipped her bra, slowly drawing it away from her body. Creamy white and full, her breasts stood proud and heavy on her chest. Her nipples puckered against the sudden loss of warmth, forming into harden rosy peaks. "You're beautiful, Christine." He said her full name this time, drawing her gaze back to his own. He smoothed his hands up her sides, brushing the sides of her breasts slightly, sending shivers up and down her spine. He took one breast in each hand, brushing his thumbs over her nipples. She moaned at the new sensation, instinctively pulling his head towards her chest. He obliged her, talking her right nipple into his mouth, sucking gently while circling it with his tongue. She threw her head back, arching up into his mouth. He let go, moving to the other breast, letting his right hand trail down her body to cup her through her panties, running his thumb down her slit. He groaned as his thumb grew wet. Suddenly he stripped off the fabric, sliding it swiftly down her legs, bringing it up to his nose for a quick sniff. She clamped her legs closed in the process, the reality that she was fully naked in front of Dean Winchester crashing down on her.

Dean felt like a man starved as he gazed at her. She was so fucking gorgeous. Christine crossed her arms over her chest and leaned forward a little. He reached up and kissed her, burying his hands in her hair. He knew she was nervous, he could see it in the way she was watching him sniff her panties. As they kissed he felt her relax a little, her arms siding around his neck, and her legs opening for him again. He let go of her mouth, trailing kisses down her body to her glistening core. He sat back on his heels, letting his hands rest on top of her thighs. "Such a pretty pink pussy," He murmured, kissing her inner thigh, flicking his gaze up to her face. She had her head thrown back, lip caught between her teeth. Her left hand cupped her left breast, rolling the nipple between her fingers. He smiled, blowing softly against her nether lips, earning a frustrated groan from the woman before him. Leaning in further he licked up her slit, sliding his hands to grasp her hips. He shifted slightly, sliding his left arm under her, grabbing her left buttock for leverage while spreading her open with his right.

"Dean, oh!" She moaned, her hands returning to his hair as he began licking her drawing lazy circles around her clit with his tongue. He brought up a finger and inserted it, testing how ready she was. He was rewarded with a hot gush of fluid as she relaxed into his touch. He added a second finger, moving slowly, stroking her while his tongue worked on her clit. He felt her walls begin to flutter as he felt more than heard her whispered, "Oh, fuck!" She blew apart against his mouth, and he vowed to always treat himself to such an exquisite experience. He continued to lick and stroke her as she road out her orgasm, her thighs hugging his head as her ass lifted off the bed slightly.

He kissed back up her body, claiming her mouth in a searing kiss. He helped her wrap her legs around his waist as he stood up, then deposited her on the bed. He noticed her shiver, so he pulled the comforter down and after ridding himself of his boxers, joined her on the bed.

Christine was having trouble breathing after that mind melting orgasm. Considering she hadn't had many in her life, this was exciting and terrifying all at the same time. Dean loomed over her, kneeing her legs apart. He settled between her thighs, kissing her breasts. "How's my baby girl?" He whispered hotly into her ear, biting at her earlobe.

All she managed to do was nod, kissing his cheek as he pulled back to look at her.

He reached for his jeans next to the bed, pulling out his wallet. A foil packet glimmered in the lamplight. He held it up and waggled his eyebrows. Sitting back on his heels he started to open the foil packet. "Wait," Christine said softly, sitting up. "Wait, I want to touch you too." She whispered, taking the foil packet and placing it on the chest. She motioned for Dean to lie back against the pillows. He usually didn't do this. He was in control, took the woman the way he saw fit and that was that. Christine straddled him, grinding herself against his erection before leaning down and kissing his mouth. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him, letting her feel his need. He lifted his hips, grinding in a small circle teasing her clit. She gasped and sat up to look at him.

Before she could lose her nerve, she scooted down his body until she was eye level with his swollen member. "It's okay baby, you don't have to-" The words died on his lips as he felt her lips press a small chaste kiss to his swollen head. He grunted, hands tangling in her hair. She took him between her hands, sliding her palm up and down his entire length, marveling at the feel of iron sheathed in silk.

"Show me?" She asked, her voice sounding so innocent. Boy, did he want to and more. He sat up a little so he could recline up against the pillows. He circled his length with his thumb and forefinger, curling the rest of his fingers around, stroking from just below the head all the way to the base. He let loose a grunt of pleasure as she reached for him, doing what he had show her. He covered her hand with his own, showing her how to stroke him. She caught on quick, and he let go, falling back against the pillows with a moan. "You're so beautiful." She whispered before leaning down and kissing him again. Instead of straightening up again, she licked his tip. He shuddered at the contact, burying his hands in her hair. She licked him again, this time talking him fully into her mouth.

"Oh baby," Dean groaned, "You're incredible." He couldn't help himself as he thrust his hips up, slowly fucking her mouth.

Christine enjoyed his reaction to her ministrations. She continued to suck him, trying not to panic when she practically gagged on him as he thrust up into her mouth. She flicked her eyes up to his face. He eyes were screwed shut, his mouth had fallen open into a soft 'oh'. He started thrusting a little more erratically, instinct told her he was close. Suddenly he sat up, pulling her off him with a soft pop.

She looked at him questioningly as he unwrapped the condom and slipped it on with practiced ease. Dean looked up to see her watching him, "Come here baby," He drawled, spreading his arms. He claimed her mouth in another soul searing kiss as he rolled them over so he was settled once again between her thighs. He inserted two fingers inside her, stroking softly, while his other hand massaged her breasts until she was writhing with need. He leaned down and kissed her, guiding himself to her entrance. He pushed inside a little, pressing his lips to her ear, "You ready, baby?" He asked. He'd never been someone's first time before. He vaguely remembered his first time, it wasn't the girl's first time, so he didn't have to factor pain and discomfort into the equation. This time, he wanted to be there with her every step of the way.

Christine marveled at the man above her. Here he was, getting exactly what he wanted, yet he was ensuring she was comfortable and ready. She nodded, thrusting her hips up towards him, taking him a little by surprise as he became fully sheathed inside her. White hot pain shot through her for a moment, then it receded and the need to move overwhelmed her, "Please." She pleaded, eyes locking with his.

He watched as her face crumpled with pain and then became slack with desire again. She looked up at him and pleaded with him to move. Move he did. Slowly at first, stealing kisses, letting his mouth hover over hers, their hot breath mingling.  
His first thrust made her eyes roll back into her head. He pulled out and thrust again, this time a little bit deeper. She wrapped her legs around his waist, trying to be as close to him as possible. On his third thrust he tried a slightly different angle. This earned a glorious moan and claw marks down his back. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he grunted with satisfaction.

They continued like this for a few more thrusts, Dean holding himself a little bit away from her. It was good, but Christine wanted, no, needed more from him. Pure instinct told her he could give it. "Harder," She whispered in his ear, her tongue darting out to caress his flesh.

Dean groaned, her voice made his blood run hot. He quickly obliged her, letting her feel his need to possess her. He thrust into her more fully, increasing his pace just slightly as he put a little more of his weight on her.

"Dean," She panted, feeling herself rushing towards oblivion again. He was hitting that sweet spot inside her, and the angle had his pelvis grazing her clit in the most delicious fashion.

Dean knew he was close, she'd already brought him so far with her mouth. Now being inside her was testing his resolve. She was so fucking tight, and incredibly hot. Her walls began their familiar flutter and he leaned down to whisper in her ear, "So close, sweetness. Come for me, baby." His teeth nipped at her earlobe. Then he thrust his tongue into her ear, his breath coming in soft pants, pushing her further towards the edge.

Christine blew apart seconds later, letting out a soft cry, "Oh, Dean!" She shuddered and keened with pleasure, expecting the afterglow to set in. Instead of the warmth washing over her, she felt the fire grow hotter.

"Oh baby, I'm so close, hold on." He warned, gritting his teeth. He pushing her deeper into the mattress, picking up his pace. He could feel her still right there with him, her walls fluttering again on the brink of oblivion. He reached between them, brushing his thumb over her clit. After just a few thrusts, he spilled himself inside her. "Christine," He whispered like a prayer, riding out his orgasm, bringing her with him. She tumbled over the edge for a second time, this time harder and louder. Her cries muffled by his mouth as he kissed her deeply. He collapsed on top of her for a moment, then he rolled off of her, bringing her with him so she could curl up on his chest.

They didn't speak for a few moments. Their breathing slowed and evened out. Dean rose to a sitting position on the side of the bed to discard the condom. Christine sat up, her palms smoothing over his shoulders, placing kiss at the base of his neck. He turned to face her, pulling her into his lap. He smoothed her hair out her eyes, tilting her face up so he could claim her lips in a soft kiss.

"Are you okay?" He asked against her lips, splaying his right hand across her lower stomach, just brushing her folds, indicating his concern.

She nodded, "Mmm hmm." She hummed, kissing him again. Then she whispered against his lips, "That was-"

"Incredible?" He finished for her, pulling back a little with his eyebrow raised. "Everything you ever dreamed of and more?" He teased, gently pushing her back onto the bed.

She stared up at him with bleary eyes, overcome with the emotion of the moment. She just nodded, trying desperately to not let her tears spill over.

"Aww, baby." Dean crooned as her tears spilled over, running down her cheeks. He smoothing them away with his thumbs, kissing her cheeks. "To hell and back wha-"

"Whatever the cost." Christine finished in a shaky voice. He continued to wipe away her tears, watching as she struggled with what to say next.

"I mean it, Chris." He said softly, his finger lifting her chin so he could stare into her eyes. "I'm not going anywhere."

She nodded, "I know." She cleared her throat, "I've just never felt like this before. I feel so," she swallowed, coming up to her knees to kneel in front of him on the mattress. "I feel so close to you, Dean." She whispered, her right hand coming up to cup his face in her palm.

He leaned into her touch, pressing a kiss to her open palm, covering her hand with his own. "I feel close to you too, Chris." He whispered.

"Is it always like this?"

"What?" He asked with feigned innocence. He knew exactly what she meant.

"_Sex_, Dean." She said sweetly, knowing full well he was just trying to get her to say it out loud. She leaned in and kissed his ear. Well if he wanted her to say it, "_Sex_, that's what, _Dean_. Is _sex_ always like this?"

He swallowed thickly as she purred the word 'sex' into his ear. God dammit she was a minx. "Well, I don't have much to compare it too really." He sighed, playing along.

"Nonsense." She quipped. "I've heard countless stories of how good Dean Winchester is in bed. How big his cock is. How bone melting his kisses are…" she teased,

He suddenly didn't feel like joking anymore. He rolled over, pinning her beneath him. His gaze becoming bleary.

Christine's breath caught as she realized Dean's eyes were glistening with tears. "Dean? I'm sorry, I was only kidding, I really haven't heard all of that…" She trailed off as he pressed a kiss to her collarbone.

"I'm not as proud of my reputation as I let everyone think." Dean confessed, his lips lingering on her skin. He pulled back to look her directly in the eye. "No, Christine. Sex has never been like this for me. I've never felt so alive, so close to a woman before." He whispered, "I didn't really believe you. I thought for sure Joel had coaxed his way into your bed before me." He looked away for a moment. Christine reached up and brought his gaze back to her own. She nodded, urging him to continue. He took a deep breath, "I didn't believe that this was your first time until last night when I first touched you. I thought you were going to jump through the ceiling." He chuckled. Her cheeks flamed as she dropped her gaze. HIs finger under her chin brought her back to his eyes, "I knew it then. I couldn't deny that moment. Then you came apart in my arms and all I could think was, this is so special, You, you are so special. I couldn't wait to be with you this way."

She shook her head in amazement. "I'm glad you believed me. Even if you were a little hard headed about it." Christine giggled. It was incredible to hear Dean be so honest. She was afraid he would hide his feelings from her. Maybe losing his father really did make things more clear for him. She glanced at the clock. 1:45PM. Still enough time for a little cat nap. She stood up on wobbly legs, Dean's hands coming up behind her for support. When she was steady, she fished out a few wet wipes from her go bag and tossed one his way. "Clean up cowboy. I think I need a good round of snuggling before I face the world again."

"Yes, ma'am." He replied with a cheeky grin.

Cleaned up and semi dressed, they tumbled into bed again, Dean hovering over her, tasting her mouth before settling beside her.

"You have your phone?" He asked, sleep coloring his voice.

"Mmmhmm." Christine answered, shifting so she was tucked up tight against him, leg thrown over his, head pillowed on his chest. She started drifting off, dreaming about

"To hell and back," He whispered against her hair, his arm holding her firmly against him.

"Whatever the cost." She murmured back, pressing a kiss to his chest.

_from the author's desk…_

_Stand Up (Kick Love Into Motion - Def Leppard - This song almost made the cut for their Hysteria LP. Personally, I'm glad it was saved for Adrenalize. The lyrics, "I just happen to be a man, you just happen to be a woman, and we just happen to be together, try and stop this thing comin'…" really describes Dean and Christine's predicament. Life as a hunter is unpredictable, so its neat to see them deal with life and love like the rest of us. _

_Up next we'll do a re-cap of the show, and some after party angst. I'll probably fast forward to the wrap up or tail end of Bloodlust. Gordon is a great character, I just don't fancy writing him that much…this is fan fiction after all…_

_xoxo_

_Lumora the White_


	13. Saturday Night Special

**Long, Long Way From Home **

_Previously…_

_Cleaned up and semi dressed, they tumbled into bed again, Dean hovering over her, tasting her mouth before settling beside her._

"_You have your phone?" He asked, sleep coloring his voice. _

"_Mmmhmm." Christine answered, shifting so she was tucked up tight against him, leg thrown over his, head pillowed on his chest. She started drifting off, dreaming about the show to come that evening._

"_To hell and back," He whispered against her hair, his arm holding her firmly against him._

"_Whatever the cost." She murmured back, pressing a kiss to his chest._

* * *

**Chapter 13 : Saturday Night Special**

**Christine's room : Harvelle's Roadhouse**

The first chords of _I Love Rock N' Roll by Joan Jett and the Blackhearts_ jarred Dean out of sleep. He opened his eyes to find the space beside him empty. "Friggin' women," He grumbled, fumbling under the pillows to find the source of his bliss disruption.

"Don't 'friggin' women' me, Winchester." Christine said from her place on the floor.

Dean squinted, rubbing his eyes. He couldn't find the source of her voice. "Chris?" He asked into the darkened room.

"Down here, Dean." She murmured, eyes still closed. She sat crossed legged on a green yoga mat, facing the bed. Her hand outstretched to receive her phone.

He leaned up on an elbow, peering over the side of the bed. Christine sat in what he thought to be a meditation pose. He placed her phone in her hand.

"Elliott." She answered the phone, putting it on speaker.

"Hey Chris," Joel lane said, smiling into his phone.

"Ya'll here yet?" She asked, her eyes opening and taking in Dean who had worked his way into a sitting position on the edge of the bed.

"Almost, about an hour out." Joel drawled, "Hey, I was thinking that maybe you and I could grab something to eat after the gig? Ziggy's is open all night, and I'd be nice to-"

"Sorry Joel, I'm unavailable for being your wingman for the foreseeable future. Maybe Harry can help you out." She replied, keeping her cool. She really wanted to chew him out. She'd told him before to knock off the date-like drinking invitations.

"Oh," Joel sounded like the breath had been knocked out of his lungs. Silence. "Wait, you're with him right now aren't you? That's why you're being so-"

"Who I'm with doesn't matter to you, now does it?" Christine shot back, ending his little rant. "I'll see you in an hour, Joel." She clicked the phone off, tossing it toward her go bag resting on top of the chest of drawers.

"Why can't he just take a hint? What am I supposed to say, 'Why yes, Joel. Dean's right here. He's been fucking me gloriously all afternoon'?" She asked rhetorically, throwing her hands up in the air.

Dean just shrugged, he was perfectly fine with her telling Joel to fuck off. He knew they had grown up together, and being bandmates now made things even more complicated. Then there was Christine's fierce loyalty that wrapped it all together.

She sighed, shrugging her shoulders and working her neck back and forth a little bit. Then she pressed 'play' again on her iPod after placing her earbuds back in her ears.

Her face looked completely focused. her mouth resting in a small frown of concentration. Her hair tumbled deliciously around her shoulders and down her back. He got to his feet and maneuvered around the pile of his clothes to sit next to her. Curious as to what she was focusing so intently on, he plucked the left earbud from her ear and placed it in his.

_Now I'm on my feet again_

_Better things are bound to happen_

_All my dues, surely must be paid_

_Many miles and many tears_

_Times were had, but now they're changing_

_You should know, that I'm not afraid_

_Oooo I want you to stay_

_Oooo I want you today_

_I'm ready for love_

_Oh baby, I"m ready for love_

_ready for love_

_Oh baby, I'm ready for love_

Bad Company's _Ready For Love _hit him like a ton of bricks. Seemed so appropriate for their predicament. Things were definitely changing. He vaguely wondered what would happen when he had the Impala fixed. Would she come with him? Would she stay with Bobby? Would she continue to hunt on her own? He didn't want to bother her with the questions now. "New song?" He asked, gently placing the earbud back in her ear.

She nodded. "Joel's idea." She opened her eyes, and gave him a soft smile. "Have a nice nap?" She asked, pulling the earbuds out of her ears, wrapping up the chord.

Dean nodded, helping her stand up.

"You sure?" She asked, reaching up to fluff his hair, "You're looking at me like I'm going to disappear any second." Her hands settled on his shoulders.

_Aren't you? _He asked silently, searching her concern filled eyes. He still couldn't believe he had been so close to her, skin on skin, buried deep inside. "Am I?" He chuckled, reaching down for his jeans, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Christine pulled on her shorts and checked her reflection in the mirror. She fluffed her hair, and touched up her mascara.

"_He's been fucking me gloriously all afternoon?_" He asked, repeating her phrase from earlier, coming up behind her, threading his arms around her waist.

"Maybe I'll just tell him tonight." She shrugged, "Let him really have it, eh?" She pouted at the mirror, giving her lashes one final swipe of mascara. "Hand me the lipstick over there?" She asked, waiving her hand in the chest of drawers' general direction. "Smallest silver tube." She said absent mindedly, leaning into the mirror to check her eyeliner.

Dean found said tube and handed it to her. "Wait," He said as she flipped open the lid and twisted it, her lips forming into a pretty pout.

Christine straightened away from the mirror, turning around to face him. "What? Did I miss something?" Her eyes went wide, searching his face.

Dean chuckled, "No baby, I almost did." He leaned in, drawing her close to his chest. Then he bent his head, smoothing the pad of his thumb over her lower lip. He pressed his lips softly to hers, slowly pulling her deeper into his embrace.

Christine couldn't help herself as she tossed the lipstick tube over her shoulder, wrapping her arms around Dean's neck. "We still have 45 minutes." She murmured against his lips.

"Awesome." Dean growled, lifting her up, depositing her back on bed.

* * *

**Later that night**

Dean leaned back against the bar, watching Christine strut her stuff on stage. She looked incredibly hot, still not showing too much in the skin department. Her sleeveless top, shorts and boots combo had his engine revving. It didn't help that she kept dancing so close to that infernal guitar player. He knew it was all an act; her eyes hardly left his during her new song, 'Ready For Love,' by Bad Company. Even if it was just for the sake of the show, he still had to wrestle down the green-eyed monster rearing its ugly head inside his chest whenever she got all up close and personal with Joel. There was a subtle difference in the way she moved her hips, and danced around the stage. Confidence, for sure, but did he detect a bit of freedom in there too? He puffed his chest out a little, being with him had given her that. He had a strange urge to shout out over the crowd, _'See that gorgeous woman up there? Mine, she's all MINE!' _ He shook his head a little, _what was going on? _Then turning away from the stage, he downed the last of his whiskey, signaling for another.

"Thank you very much!" Christine shouted into the microphone, waving to the crowd. "Goodnight!" They had just finished their encore, _Back On The Road Again_, by REO Speedwagon. She felt different. The afternoon she spent in Dean's arms kept flashing before her eyes as she sang tonight. His head buried between her thighs, the way his chest rumbled with each moan as he thrust into her. It didn't help that he sat at the bar, all the way across the room to the very back, just begging to be her go to comfort place of eye contact. Damn him. She felt like he was slowly edging his way under her skin, making her even more addicted to him than she originally signed up for. It wasn't really fair. He looked like a greek god, all firm muscle, sharp male angles, piercing green eyed stare. She was definitely in deeper than she thought.

Jo stood by the stage, watching the exchange between Christine and Dean across the room. She looked like a brand new woman, and Dean looked like he was placing up a wall, piece by piece. She hooped and hollered as Christine dropped down from the stage, "You are incredible!" She laughed, pulling her into a tight hug. "You look incredible too, sugar. He's that good, eh?" She murmured into Christine's ear, pulling back to look into her eyes.

Christine nodded, biting her lip. Tears pricked her eyes before she could stop them. She cleared her throat, and wiped them away with the back of her hand.

"Awww, sweetie!" Jo lamented, "I'm sure he feels the same about you!" She pulled Christine to her side, guiding her to the bar, opposite end, away from Dean. Once they were seating on some stools, Jo called for two tequila shots. She turned to Christine, "I didn't tell you, but Dean asked about you when he found out my Mom and I knew about demons and shit like that."

Christine almost choked on the water that was set before her. "Wait, what?!" She sputtered. _He asked about me? Dear God. Who did he think I had become? _She wondered, staring into the shot glass before her.

"He asked if we had heard of a hunter named Christine Elliott." Jo smiled at the memory.

* * *

**Just over a week ago…**

**Harvelle's Roadhouse**

"**Do you know a hunter by the name of Christine Elliott?" Dean asked Ellen, leaning onto the bar counter a little bit. Jo had begun polishing glasses at the back of the bar. Mother and daughter exchanged a look.**

**Finally Ellen spoke first. "Yeah we've heard of her." She left it at that, unsure as to why Dean was asking about his childhood playmate.**

"**Well, what can you tell me about her?" Dean asked.**

"**Why do you want to know?" Jo asked, her back still turned. **

"**Uh, well. I knew her as a kid. And, she's been staying with Bobby Singer, another hunter friend of ours. I just wondered what her deal was these days. That's all." He huffed. **

**Mother and daughter exchanged another long look. "She's insane." Ellen sighed. "The girl is just asking for trouble. She hunts alone, gets herself in all kinds of tight spots." Jo nodded in approval. Ellen barked a laugh, smiling now, "But the girl is an incredible hunter. Really knows her stuff." **

**Jo came forward, setting a rack of glasses on the bar, " She's an excellent shot and really good in a jam. I'd trust her with my life." **

**Ellen nodded, "Same here." **

**Dean sat back a little on his stool. He hadn't expected the same response he got a few years ago from that bartender in Pennsylvania. Although, he felt a hell of a lot better knowing she was still bad to the bone and trustworthy to boot.**

* * *

"Basically we told him you were a total badass." Jo laughed, knocking back her shot of tequila.

Christine smiled, pressing her knuckles to her mouth softly. "Flatterer." She giggled.

Jo sighed, letting her lips form a soft smile, "Just telling the truth, sugar. You're incredible." She looked a little wistful. Christine could tell she was also a tad green with jealousy, too.

"I'm sorry, Jo." Christine said, turning to fully face her friend. "I know you want to be out there, living this life so bad. But you've got a mother who-"

"Not you too," Jo spat, slamming another shot.

"Not me too? What?" Christine asked, smoothing a piece of hair out of Jo's eyes. Jo just looked back at her with an angry grin, eyebrows raised. She let her eyes dart to the other end of the bar and back again in a pointed gesture. Christine gasped with understanding.

"Dean." They said together. Then they both slammed another shot, both grunting with the pleasure-pain sensation.

"God dammit," Christine swore. "That man. He's so much like my Dad. I swear-"

"You know what they say…" Jo cut in with a giggle, taking a sip of water.

"Whatever," Christine muttered with a small grin, knocking back one last shot. She glanced back over to the other end of the bar. Dean had disappeared. His deep voice next to her ear almost startled her out of her chair.

"Mind if I join you ladies?" He purred, polishing off his glass, setting in forcefully down on the bar.

Christine and Jo exchanged a look. "I'll see you crazy kids the next time you head through Nebraska." Jo drawled, sliding off her stool, giving Christine a quick hug, "Call me," She whispered into her ear before pulling away. Jo headed to join her mother back behind the bar to help begin closing up.

"Ellen offered us some beds out back if you want to stay awhile…" Christine murmured, turning to face Dean.

Dean took in the sight of her. She looked radiant, yet a little rough around the edges from her performance. He shook his head, "I've got something I want to, no I need to finish." He turned her face to look into her eyes, taking a deep breath, "I hear you're good at turning junkyard scrap into showroom treasure."

Christine blushed at that. She watched as the muscles in his jaw tensed. She sensed this was the only way he could ask for her help. He wasn't ever going to fully come out and say it. It just wasn't the 'Winchester Way'. "That's some rumor you've been hearing alright." She teased. Then soberly she whispered, "I'll see what I can do, cowboy."

Dean straightened away from her, pulling a few bills from his pocket. "Hey Jo, I think this should more than close out our tabs. Thanks for everything, doll." He turned back to Christine "Let's blow this popsicle stand, shall we?" He grinned at her with that infamous shit eating grin, making her knees shake just a little bit.

"You're the best, mama!" Christine shouted, jumping off her bar stool, blowing a kiss at Jo and Ellen who were behind the bar.

Dean found Sam while Christine rounded up her go bag from her room. She met them out back at Roxy. They climbed in, and began the trek back to Singer Auto Salvage. Christine found the black mixtape labeled 'Dean' and popped it in. Dean settled in the backseat this time, Sam calling shotgun because of his long legs. Christine couldn't wait to put Baby back together. She knew it would help Dean heal if he had that piece of his Dad whole again.

* * *

**Bloodlust (approximately three weeks later)**

"Wooh! Listen to her purr." Dean exclaimed with a smile, "You've ever heard anything so sweet?" He asked Sam, who was riding in the passenger seat.

Sam chuckled, "If you two want to get a room, I'm not-"

"Awww, don't listen to him, baby!" He smoothed his palm over the dashboard. "He just doesn't understand us." He flicked his eyes to the rearview mirror to find Christine reclining against the rear passenger side door, feet tucked up on the seat next to her. Her hair streamed back from her face from the open window. She wore a mile wide smile that rivaled his own, hand stuck out the window, floating on the breeze.

Sam scoffed, "You're in a good mood," He mused, flashing Christine a silly smile over his shoulder.

"Why shouldn't I be? He asked.

"No reason," Sam answered with a wave of his hand.

"I've got my two best girls," He nodded over his shoulder at Christine with a wink, "Got a case. Things are lookin' up."

"You hear of a couple severed heads and a pile of dead cows and you're mister sunshine." Sam exclaimed with a grin. He was glad to have Dean in such a chipper mood.

Dean chuckled, "How far to Red Lodge?" He asked, locking eyes with Christine in the rearview mirror.

"Uh, about another 300 miles."

Dean cocked a grin, gripping the steering wheel more firmly. "Good." He revved the engine and catching Christine's eyes in the rearview mirror again, this time she winked back.

All she could do was smile. Fixing baby the past few weeks had been a ton of work, but oh so much fun! It was a struggle at first to let Dean boss her around. Once she settled with the idea that he knew just as much about classic cars as she did, they got along much better.

* * *

"He was a lot of help," Christine huffed, unbuttoning her navy blue suit jacket. Dean restrained himself from helping her slide it off her shoulders. She'd been pissy since they rolled into town. He vaguely wondered if this was her time of the month.

"Do I sense some sarcasm, reporter Flanders?" Dean asked with a cheeky grin, shedding his suit jacket. Sam chuckled and shook his head as they regrouped back at the motel room after their visit at the sheriff's department.

"Let's just try the hospital, okay boys?" Christine replied, her tone terribly exasperated. She gathered her next costume and slammed the bathroom door behind her.

"What's eating her shorts?" Sam asked, shrugging off his suit jacket. He stopped mid fold, "You two didn't-"

"Don't go there Sammy," Dean warned, loosening his tie. "I'm not quite sure. But, something is definitely up." He and Christine were getting along fine, especially after they agreed to disagree on how to put Baby back together. In the end, she relented.

Christine leaned against the door. She had encountered a rumor of a hunter awhile back who was systematically eliminating a nest of vampires just outside of Atlanta. This had Gordon Walker written all over it. Her biggest confirmation would be to find out if the victims were Vamps or not. She pushed off the door and changed into her set of scrubs for their visit to the hospital.

"Hello nurse Nightingale." Dean let loose a low whistle when she emerged from the bathroom.

"Really Dean?" She shook her head. He was not being very professional. They were on a hunt. They couldn't afford the distraction. She charged forward, pinning Dean up against the wall. "I'm flattered, really Dean, I am. Do me a favor, huh?" She waved Sam away. "Just can the sexual tension while we're putting our lives on the line, eh?" She asked, her voice turning deadly, staring directly into his eyes.

"Hey, a little help here!" Dean exclaimed, scanning the room for his brother. Sam moved to pull her off, but she released her grip on Dean before he could reach her.

"I'll distract the intern while you two chuckleheads inspect the bodies. Let's get a move on." Christine ordered. Obviously she was used to doing this alone.

Sam turned to Dean, "She's right-"

"She's insane!" Dean cut him off. "I think we're going to have to have a little pow wow with Xena Warrior Princess after this is over." He muttered, following her out the open door to the Impala.

Sam just sighed. At least things were more interesting with her around.

* * *

Their visit to the county hospital morgue proved to be quite fruitful. Christine distracted "Jeff" the intern, while Sam and Dean inspected to latest victim's head. They regrouped at the Impala. "Find anything interesting on our latest victim?" Christine asked as she slid in the backseat.

"Retractable vampire fangs." Sam answered as Dean drove them back to the motel.

"That makes things a little more interesting." Christine mused as she sat back. Her instincts were definitely right. "Let's check out that little bar on main. I think we can find out where the nest is if we poke around a little." She said, taking charge again.

"Already part of the plan, sweetheart." Dean confirmed, eyeing her through the rearview mirror. Something was definitely going on. It was like she suspected the vic's might be vampires. There was definitely something she wasn't telling them. "Got anything else you'd like to share?"

Christine looked up at him, pursing her lips, "Anything I'd _like to share_?" She emphasized his choice of words with a triumphant smile. "Nope," She shrugged, giving her attention back to the window.

_Uh huh. Sure. _He thought, watching her evade his question by using his word choice against him. They were definitely going to have it out when everything was said and done. Now, they needed to focus on the case. At least she had good ideas, even if she wasn't sharing all of them.

* * *

A few hours later they entered the little bar on main street. Christine wore her usual hunter garb, black V-neck t-shirt, leather jacket, bootleg jeans, black motorcycle boots. Shiny silver buckles with anti-possession charms engraved into them adorned her jacket, belt and boots tastefully. Her golden hair tumbled about her shoulders, blown out for the occasion of bar hopping. Her lips sported a flashy blood red, and her eyes were done up dark and smoky. Sam and Dean went up to the bar to get some info from the bartender. Christine followed, but turned her back to the bar, leaning up against it to casually survey the room. A few couples were splattered throughout the bar. A lone gentleman sat staring directly at Sam and Dean's backs, attempting to hide behind his smoking cigarette. Terribly experienced in surveillance she didn't let her eyes linger on anything, but kept casually flicking her gaze from the boys to move around the room. She sipped the beer Dean handed her, watching the lone gentleman listen to the boys' conversation.

"We've got company," Christine murmured around the mouth of her beer bottle.

Dean locked eyes with her and gave her a wink, slightly inclining his head towards the table in question. He was on the same page.

The bartender gave them a tip about a farm just outside of town. The trio took a couple more swigs of their beers and left the bar. Christine bumped into Dean slightly so he would see the now empty table by the window.

Dean had to admit, Christine was good. The beer was still half full, and the cigarette hardly finished. There was no way in hell that the man saw their interaction and knew they were on to him. He saw the guy by the window, but didn't think much of it until Christine informed him that the man was listening in to their information gathering.

It began to rain. Just a slight drizzle, but it did feel good against her heated skin. Dean was following her so closely she could feel his body heat through her leather jacket. They went around back, crouching behind some dumpsters at the end of the alley. The man took the bait, hook, line and sinker. He stopped in the ally, turning away from them for a moment when Christine pounced. She pulled her knife and threw him up against the cinder block. Sam and Dean flanked her on either side, holding the man firmly to the wall.

"Smile," Dean said.

"What?" He asked, eerily in control.

"Show us those pearly whites." Christine ordered with a grin.

"You want to stick that thing some place else, sweetheart? I'm not a vampire." The man answered with a sigh.

The trio exchanged confused looks.

"Yeah, that's right I heard you guys in there." The man divulged, tipping his chin up.

"What do you know about vampires?" Sam asked, staring the man down.

"How to kill 'em." The man answered, "Now seriously, sweets. That knife is making me itch." He started to bring up his right hand.

"Woah!" Christine exclaimed. Sam pushed the man harder against the wall.

"Easy there, Chachi." The man soothed. He pulled his lip up, "See? Fangless. Happy?" He asked. Christine pulled the knife away from his neck. They all took a step back. "Now, who the hell are you?" He asked.

* * *

After Gordon declined their help, the trio kept tailing him. Then they had to save his sorry ass from a lone vampire in a saw mill. Christine really wanted to bring up the vampire nest she encountered near Atlanta. Those vamps were living off animal blood, she had only stumbled upon them because cattle mutilations are usually signs of demon activity. It turned out a peaceful nest of vampires were there, living under the radar. They just wanted to live like anyone else. Dean was engrossed in what hunter "wisdom" Gordon was imparting on him. She didn't know how to get Dean away from Gordon. Sam had left in a huff, obviously not in to the whole 'celebrating after a kill' party vibe. She sat across from Sam's empty chair, listening to Gordon get all touchy feely hunter style. _  
_

Finally both men took a swig of beer. "I'm beat, Dean. Can we continue this back at the motel?" She asked, faking a big ass yawn. In reality her senses were in overdrive. Adrenaline from watching Dean slice that vamp's head off really had her blood pumping. She also continued to be high on alert. Gordon Walker had scarier, darker rumors following him around than she did.

"Uh, sure," Dean answered. Turning to Gordon,he asked,"You mind? We've got some maps and stuff back at the motel, so-"

"Yeah, sounds great." Gordon answered, helping Christine slide out her chair. She gave him a dark look, showing him her distaste for chivalry. She went up to the bar to settle her tab, and overheard Gordon say to Dean, "She's one hell of a woman." He then asked, "Is she, well, off-"

"The market?" Dean finished for him with a grin. "You could say that." He said in a deadly tone. She returned to his side. "All set, babe?" He asked sweetly, leaning in to give her a kiss.

Because she didn't want Gordon getting any ideas, she obliged him, "All set," and let him kiss her soundly. He led them out, his hand stuck in the right back pocket of her jeans.

"Well alright then." Gordon mused. "You're a lucky son of a bitch." He laughed.

"Damn straight." Dean chuckled, driving them back to the motel.

An hour later, Christine found herself unable to focus. "Dean, where is-"

"Sammy? I know. I'm a little worried too." Dean finished for her.

"Maybe he went for a walk?" Gordon offered, "Seems like the 'take a walk' type."

Christine eyed Gordon warily as she continued polishing her Colt 1911. "Sure," She answered.

"Yeah, but I'd thought he'd be back by now." Dean sighed. Suddenly the door flew open, Sam stepped inside the room.

"Hey Sam!" Christine exclaimed, getting to her feet.

"Where you been?" Dean asked, standing up as well.

Sam shifted from foot to foot, taking a deep breath. "Can I talk to you guys, um, alone?" He asked.

"Mind chilling out for a couple a minutes?" Dean asked Gordon. Gordon shook his head, picking up a map and studying it.

Then Sam dropped a bomb on his older brother that confirmed Christine's earlier suspicions. "Dean, maybe we gotta re-think this hunt."

* * *

_from the author's desk…_

_Saturday Night Special - Lynyrd Skynyrd - Great track for writing bar scenes, as well as putting Dean in the mix. At least it is for me. Seemed to fit the chapter, so there it is._

_Bloodlust - I love this episode, mostly because its a turning point in the Winchester Saga. They come to terms with the fact that monsters aren't always "supernatural." Sometimes the monsters can be human too._

_Up next we'll conclude our little 'turning point' romp, and skip ahead a few episodes to 'No Exit'. Thank you for all the favorites/follows and reviews. So honored to be apart of this fandom!_

_xoxo_

_Lumora the White_


	14. Barracuda

**Long, Long Way From Home**

_Previously…_

_An hour later, Christine found herself unable to focus. "Dean, where is-"_

"_Sammy? I know. I'm a little worried too." Dean finished for her. _

"_Maybe he went for a walk?" Gordon offered, "Seems like the 'take a walk' type." _

_Christine eyed Gordon warily as she continued polishing her Colt 1911. "Sure," She answered. _

"_Yeah, but I'd thought he'd be back by now." Dean sighed. Suddenly the door flew open, Sam stepped inside the room._

"_Hey Sam!" Christine exclaimed, getting to her feet. _

"_Where you been?" Dean asked, standing up as well._

_Sam shifted from foot to foot, taking a deep breath. "Can I talk to you guys, um, alone?" He asked._

"_Mind chilling out for a couple a minutes?" Dean asked Gordon. Gordon shook his head, motioning to the door. Then he picked up a map and continued studying it. _

_Then Sam dropped a bomb on his older brother than confirmed Christine's earlier suspicions. "Dean, maybe we gotta re-think this hunt."_

* * *

**Chapter 14 : Barracuda**

Christine stood back while Sam tried to convince Dean they should reconsider their motives in hunting the vampire nest.

"Look at me Dean, they let me go with out a scratch." Sam said, arms stretched out wide.

"Wait, so you're saying…" Dean started to try to understand. Then his instincts won, "No, no way man. I don't know why they let you go, I don't really care. We find 'em. We waste 'em."

"Why?" Sam asked, causing Dean to stop his retreat.

"What part of _vampires _don't you understand, Sam?" Dean spat. "If it's supernatural, we kill it. End of story, that's our job." He explained. He couldn't wrap his mind around the empathy Sam was showing for these bloodsuckers.

"No, it isn't Dean, that is not our job. Our job is hunting evil. And if these things aren't killing people, they're not evil." Sam exclaimed.

"Of course they're killing people. That's what vampires do, they're all the same Sam. They're not human, ok? We have to exterminate every last one of 'em."

They continued like this until Sam called Dean out for replacing the loss of their Dad with Gordon. Then Dean punched Sam square in the jaw.

The boys returned to the room for a moment. She hung back, leaning against the driver's door of Baby. Sam was at the nest! He returned without a scratch. This had to be Lenore's clan.

"Gordon?!" Dean shouted, more scuffling in the room. "Son of a bitch!" He exclaimed, running back out into the parking lot, Sam bringing up the rear. They jogged over the impala.

Christine slid away from the driver's door, opening the rear. The boys climbed inside. "Can't believe this, just fixed her up too." Dean grumbled, reaching down below the steering column. As Dean hot wired Baby, Sam pulled out a map and began retracing the route the truck took him.

Sam confirmed the route, then said, "Lenore and her clan are leaving town they just want to-"

"Lenore?" Christine cut him off, earning a confused look from both men. "Uh, dark hair, big dark eyes. Soft, but firmly spoken?"

Sam nodded, "Yeah, how'd you know?"

"Is this what you've been hiding this whole time?" Dean asked dumbfounded, slamming on the brakes just after the bridge.

"I wasn't sure, ok?" Christine exclaimed, "Keep driving Dean, please. If this is Lenore, we need to help her. Gordon is a monster. He's not the hunter you think he is, I-"

"We'll see." Dean muttered, cutting off her explanation, peeling out on the pavement. They arrived a few minutes later to an overgrown farm, just outside of town. Dean flicked off Baby's lights, and coasted down the gravel driveway. Gordon's red truck was parked just off the driveway partially hidden by some bushes.

Christine hardly waited for Baby to come to a halt, and she was sprinting up to the back porch. She needed to get to Lenore before Gordon killed her. Lenore had saved her life back in Atlanta. As much as she didn't like it, she owed the vamp a life debt.

"Son of a bitch," Dean swore, sprinting after her, Sam in tow. Christine plastered herself against the wall, just below the window, out of sight. The window was open, letting in the cool night breeze, letting out the tortured groans of a young woman.

Christine took a deep breath, and signaled for Dean to go first, and Sam to bring up the rear. They would slip in the back and clear each room until they found Lenore, Gordon or both. Dean nodded, and slowly eased the door open, Sam followed him inside. She left them, and moved around to the side of the house. The only light was coming from the kitchen. She slowly pulled it open, silently making her way into the house.

"Sam, Dean. C'mon in." Gordon greeted the boys.

"Gordon, what's going on?" Dean asked, suddenly unsure of the whole situation.

"I was just poisoning Lenore here with a little dead man's blood. She's gonna get her to tell me where all her little friends are, aren't you? Wanna help?" Gordon offered. He sounded cool, calm, completely in control.

"Look man," Dean started.

"Grab a knife, I was just about to start in on the fingers." Gordon said, slicing another cut into Lenore's arm.

As the boys tried to talk Gordon down from torturing Lenore, Gordon switched from torturing to now he was getting ready to "humanely" kill her. Christine had had enough.

Christine eased through the kitchen, taking care to not squeak any floorboards as she glided across the space. Before she could make another move Sam took a few steps forward and Gordon pointed his 'newly sharpened' knife at his chest. Damn. She exchanged looks with Dean, drawing Gordon's attention who was looking directly at Dean to her.

"Hey there Ms. Elliott." Gordon said cooly. He said it was familiarity. It was like he had been in this situation with her before.

"You've really done it this time, Walker." She said, stepping forward into the light. Dean took a step forward, but Gordon reacted too quickly for him to get a jump on him.

"Nice of you to join the party." Gordon said, pulling Sam towards him before Dean could take advantage of his distraction.

"Damn." Dean swore. How was he supposed to get Sam away from this mad man?

"He might be crazy, but I didn't say he wasn't good." Christine murmured.

Dean tried to talk Gordon down a little, "Hey, hey, Gordon. Let's talk about this."

"What's there to talk about?" Gordon asked. "Like I said Dean, no shade of grey."

"Yeah, I hear ya." Dean said, starting to see why Sam and Christine were so freaked out by this guy. How could he have been so blind? Grief definitely made a man do crazy things. "And I know how you feel."

"Do you?" Gordon asked, suddenly curious to see if Christine had told their story yet.

"The vampire that killed your sister deserved to die, but this one-"

Gordon chuckled. Christine didn't tell them. Well then, "The vampire that killed my sister." He sighed. "That filthy fang didn't _kill _my sister. It turned her, made her one of them. That's why I hunted her down and I killed her myself."

"You did what?" Dean asked. He caught sight of Christine, her eyes had tears in them. Her body shook a little, and her hands were balled into fists are her sides. She definitely had some explaining to do later.

"It wasn't my sister anymore. It wasn't human." Gordon explained. "I didn't blink and neither would you."

"You knew all along then. You knew about the vampires. You knew they weren't killing anyone."

Christine nodded, "He's always known. Doesn't matter to this monster." She murmured through clenched teeth. Dean placed a hand on her arm, trying to get her to make a rational choice. She looked like she was going to rip Gordon to shreds.

"You knew about the cattle and you just didn't care." Sam confirmed. He exchanged a look with Dean.

"Care about what? A nest of vampires suddenly acting nice? taking a break from slaughtering innocent people and we're supposed to buy that?" Gordon asked incredulously. "Trust me. Doesn't change what they are." He looked between the trio. "And I can prove it." He grabbed Christine's arm, pulling her behind Lenore. He sliced open a shallow cut on her forearm. She hissed in pain, but kept her eyes on Lenore. The vampire smiled weakly up at her. Dean caught the exchange between Christine and the vampire. From the looks of it, Christine had encountered both of them before.

"Let her go!" Dean shouted, gun still raised. His heart raced. Sam drew his weapon too.

"Relax, if I wanted to kill her, she'd already be on the floor." Gordon soothed, still with uncanny calm. Dean gave Christine a look that she'll never forget. He had finally come to the understanding that Gordon was more of a monster than the vampire tied to the chair.

Gordon pulled Christine towards Lenore, keeping his machete pressed against her throat.

"It's okay Lenore. You can do this. You're the strongest, bravest I've ever seen." Christine murmured, her eyes never leaving Dean's.

"Oh shut up, bitch." Gordon warned her, turning her arm, letting her blood drip down onto Lenore's face. "Just making a little point."

Lenore began to shake and her fangs suddenly sprang to life. She snarled, but kept pulling away like she didn't want to be anywhere near Christine's arm.

"Hey!" Dean warned, taking one step closer.

"Still think she's different? Still want to save her?" Gordon asked. "Look at her. They're all the same; evil, bloodthirsty." He concluded.

For the first time, Dean really took the time to look at her. He watched baffled as Lenore stopped snarling, her fangs retracted and she moaned, "No, no!"

"You hear her Gordon?" Sam asked, as Lenore continued to protest. "I think we're done here." He concluded as Gordon stepped back and dropped the knife. Christine immediately bent down and began untying the vampire.

"Christine, Sam, get her out a here." Dean ordered, still pointing his gun at Gordon. "Gordon, I think you and I have somethings to talk about."

Christine helped lift Lenore into Sam's arms. Then she held open the door as they go her as far away from Gordon as possible. She wanted to stay and help Dean subdue Gordon, but she didn't want to leave Lenore. She needed to make sure the vampire and her clan got out alive.

* * *

"Thank you, Christine." Lenore whispered as they pulled up to an old abandoned factory on the other side of town. A group of vampires emerged from the shadows. Eli, her second in command stepped forward to help Lenore out of the Impala. "It seems I am in your debt, again." The vampires around her looked a little wary.

Christine shook her head, "No, Lenore. This makes us even." She said evenly. Her eyes were full of tears. She never thought she'd get a chance to repay this life debt. It was strange enough being saved by a vampire, let alone, getting to save them in return.

She handed Lenore a wad of cash, and gave her directions to the nearest town where they could catch a bus or train to the other side of the continent if they needed too.

"Christine!" Sam shouted out the driver's window. "Let's go get Dean!"

"Coming!" She shouted, hugging Lenore one last time. Then she jogged over to the Impala and Sam raced back to the farm.

* * *

"We miss anything?" Sam asked entering the dining room. Gordon was silent, tied to a chair, just like Lenore had been. Dean looked a little worse for wear, but at least he was upright.

"Lenore get out okay?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, all of 'em did." Christine answered, stepping forward towards Gordon.

"Well, looks like our work here is done." Dean said with a grin.

"How you doing Gordie?" Christine asked, circling him once. "Have to tinkle yet?" She asked leaning into be eye level with him.

"Alright," Dean said, stepping forward, placing a hand on Christine's shoulder. Then he continued to walk around Gordon to the kitchen table. "Well, get comfy. We'll call someone in oh, two or three days. Have 'em come out, untie you." Dean slammed Gordon's machete into the table top.

"Ready to go, Dean?" Sam asked, wrapping Christine's wound in some gauze they found in the kitchen.

"Not yet." Dean said, coming back around to face Gordon. This whole time, the man never spoke. He just kept staring at them like he was going to rip them to pieces. "I guess this is goodbye," Dean said with a chuckle. "Well, it's been real." He mused, then swung and punched Gordon so hard he fell over, still tied to the chair. "Okay, I'm good now." Dean said sniffing slightly. "We can go." He said as nonchalantly as possible.

Sam scoffed with a slight grin, letting go of Christine's now bandaged arm. The trio left the house, and Christine went on ahead, slipping inside the Impala. She vaguely heard Dean ask Sam to clock him, and Sam of course refused. Then before sliding into the car, Dean confessed he wished they never took this job. He was having trouble reconciling the way they were raised and what they knew now.

She let them have their moment. She needed to figure out how to combat the bombardment of questions she was going to get from the eldest Winchester. Sam seemed okay with the idea that she had encountered Lenore and her clan before.

* * *

Dean didn't press the issue on the way back to the motel or on the drive out of town. He did corner her once they stopped for the night at a motel on their way back to Sioux Falls.

Sam had gone out for a walk, and Christine lay flopped down on one of the queen beds, reading a book. Dean emerged from the bathroom, freshly showered. Christine looked up and closed her book, "My turn." She murmured, closing the book and sitting up on the edge of the bed.

"Hold on a second." Dean said, pulling on a t-shirt.

_Here it comes…_She thought as he sat down next to her. "What's up?" She asked brightly with a fake smile.

"We need to talk." Dean murmured, swiveling a little on the bed so his torso faced her, tucking his right leg up onto the bedspread.

"Oh," Christine said, "About what?" She asked, her gaze at her feet.

Dean sighed. He was tremendously mad at her during the last hunt. He thought it was unforgivable how she had withheld information and basically lied to his face about Gordon and her involvement with Lenore. Then the drive to the motel helped him calm down and think clearly. He wouldn't have listened to her, hell he hadn't listened to Sam until it was almost too late. "You don't trust me." He said, putting it out there.

"Of course I do, I-" Christine got to her feet, her defenses in full force.

"No." Dean stopped her, standing up to face her. "You don't." He said angrily. As much as he wanted to stay in control, Christine always made him more emotional than he planned on.

"Dean," She warned, "I don't think you really want me to burden you with my past." She sighed. She wasn't sure she was ready to share it either.

"Try me." He said, crossing his arms over his chest. "We've got all night, sweetheart. Sam's found a little honey down at the bar, so we're on our own." He took a step forward to close the distance between them.

She took a step back, closer to the other bed than she thought. Dean advanced one more step and she retreated, hitting the edge of the other bed, falling back onto the mattress. "Son of a bitch!" She swore, tumbling onto the soft semi soft surface.

Dean leaned over her, pinning her to the mattress, wrists secured above her head. "I could tie you to the bed, try a little sexual frustration to loosen that sweet little tongue of yours…" He whispered hotly into her ear.

"Fine!" Christine yelped as he delved his tongue into her ear. "B-but y-you n-need to g-go over t-there." She pointed to the other bed she had just come from. Dean just chuckled darkly, pressing open mouthed kisses to her throat. "I'll talk, I promise!" She whined, pushing him off her. She took a deep breath. "I met Lenore and her family in Atlanta." She watched Dean carefully

Dean retreated to couch sitting down on the end, reclining against the arm. Christine sat up, running her hands through her hair. "Okay, so why didn't you take care of the nest then and there? Were they still 'vegetarians'?" He asked using air quotes and a lopsided mocking grin.

Christine ducked her head. She sighed, "She saved my life."

"What?" He asked, sitting up a little straighter.

"I'd been bitten and force fed by a vamp before I managed to kill it." Christine explained, suddenly on her feet, rounding the end of the couch, pacing the space before it.

"And you weren't turned?" He asked, "How is that even-"

"Possible?" She finished for him. "I had no idea that it could happen. I thought I'd have to go back to Bobby's and have him end it. I don't even know how she did it." She laughed bitterly. "After making sure I hadn't fed, two of them held me down while Lenore forced some crazy concoction that tasted like ass down my throat. I threw up all the poison that was changing my body from human to-"

"Vampire." Dean finished for her. Dear God this woman was tougher than he thought. "What was it like?" He asked suddenly curious.

"What? Being a vampire?" She barked a laugh, "Loud, confusing, overwhelming." She sat down on the edge of the couch, next to Dean's outstretched legs. "Powerful, centering."

"Centering?" He asked, with a scoff.

She sighed, "Yeah," then took a breath, "You know how Gordon was talking about 'black and white, no shades of grey', shit that like?" Dean nodded. "It was overwhelmingly clear that I was no longer just a hunter, I was also hunted. My senses were so sharp I was almost dizzy, not quite over but _just _at the edge. I think that's what I meant by p-"

"Powerful." He finished for her with a nod. "Hmmm." He made his signature thinking noise.

"Gordon Walker is a monster. He was supposedly in Atlanta at the same time. I never saw him, but I heard rumor he was in the area. That's when I discovered a rogue vamp from Lenore's camp. The vamp didn't want to live on cattle blood anymore. Lenore actually asked for my help in executing him. I was successful, but not without a price."

"So she saved you because you helped her stay under the radar." Dean said, understanding flickering in his eyes. There was also something burning there, desire.

Christine nodded, a small smile playing at her lips. "She did give me a choice. She said I could complete the change and join her clan. Or she could cure me."

"Why the cure?" He asked before he could stop himself.

"You can't be serious?" She laughed.

Dean shrugged, "What?" He asked, surprised at himself.

"I chose the cure because I had unfinished business as a human being. I knew being a vampire could help me hunt, hell it could probably make finding the demon that killed my father a hell of a lot easier." Christine erupted with anger.

"Unfinished business, huh?" Dean teased, waggling his eyebrows.

Christine rose to her knees on the couch, shuffling a few steps before she settled in Dean's lap, her knees resting on either side of his hips. "Yes, Winchester. Unfinished business." She murmured. "I didn't want to become a monster before I knew what being with Dean Winchester felt like." She pressed her lips to his, and he groaned as she ground her hips against his lap.

"This, _Dean Winchester, _is he worth it?" He asked in a whisper, staring up into her eyes. Her ferocity always left him breathless.

"Always." She answered with a soft smile, sitting back on her heals. He sat up a little too, pulling her into closer to his chest, lifting her hips a little so his eyes were almost even with her breasts. "You like this position don't you?" She teased, biting her lip.

"You have no idea," He growled, leaning forward, letting her settle down on his lap. He pressed a few kisses to her exposed collar bone.

"Was that considered a fight?" She panted, threading her fingers into his hair. She moaned as he pulled off her tank top.

"If that means we're going to have hot make up sex," Dean grinned against her chest, "Then, oh hell yes." He kissed her again, tangling his tongue with hers.

He quickly undid his fly, and with her help, slid the fabric down and away from his hips, letting his erection spring free. She stood up, going to the door and locking the deadbolt and throwing the chain. He shed the rest of his clothing. She returned to his side, sliding off her sweatpants and panties.

"You're so beautiful," Dean murmured as she settled back down on his lap. He slid his hands up her sides, skillfully unclipping her bra. He slid the garment down her arms, and tossed it over his shoulder with a flourish. He latched on to a nipple, tongue circling it as his hands smoothed up and down her back. He bucked his hips up to grind his erection against her glistening folds. "For what it's worth, I'm glad you chose the cure." He said, slipping a hand between them, inserting a finger into her core. She moaned, falling a little against his chest. He stroked her, adding a second finger while kissing her deeply. "You ready, baby?" he asked, pushing the hair out of her eyes. Clearly he meant for her to remain on top. Was she ready for this? She knew Dean wouldn't hurt her, so she went for it. She bit her lip and nodded. She felt like she would explode if he didn't get inside her soon. Slowly, he lifted her up, and positioned himself at her entrance. Then with patience and skill he grasped her hips and helped her settle down onto him. "This is a little different, you get to set the pace and the depth, baby." He whispered into her ear, pressing a soft kiss to her neck.

Christine felt so incredibly full, stretched and whole. She lifted her hips just a little, then settled back down on his lap, earning a delicious moan from his pink, plush lips. She placed her hands on his shoulders, moving carefully up and down his length. He helped her a little, holding her back and moving his hips in time with her thrusts.

"Chris," He murmured, cupping her cheek, "talk to me. How you doing, baby?" He asked gently, his lips lingering on hers.

"Oh," She gasped into his mouth. "So good," She panted, throwing her head back a little, arching her back. He slipped a hand between them, stroking her clit.

"I want to feel you come just like this," He murmured, watching her shudder with pleasure. "Come for me, Christine. Let me have it, baby." He thrust a little harder to meet her this time.

She loved to hear her full name come from his lips when he was breathless like this. "Oh Dean," She moaned at his words, her eyes slowly opening. She found his gaze fixated on her breasts as they bounced. Taking advantage of his distraction, she let her hands slide up her hips and torso to cup her breasts. She bit her lip and let loose a sensual sigh.

Dean grunted, "Oh, what a _naughty_ girl." He chided, rolling his hips just right so she exploded right then and there.

Her orgasm snuck up on her. She didn't expect Dean to remain in control, definitely a newbie mistake. She cried out, arching her back and shaking with pleasure as her orgasm washed over her. She collapsed against his chest, letting him kiss her mouth tenderly. "That was incredibly hot." She murmured, enjoying being held so tightly against him.

"I agree." He chuckled, swinging his legs over the edge of the couch. He cradled her against him as he stood and walked them over to the bed closest to the bathroom.

He deposited her in the middle of the bed, watching her squirm under his roaming gaze. "Has Dean Winchester ever had, 'hot make up sex'?" She asked with a smirk, using air quotes as he climbed on top of her.

"Once," He answered, brushing his lips against hers. _Cassie, _He thought for a moment. Then he gazed into Christine's green eyes and the memory of his first time and furious reunion faded away. Her foot stroked up and down his buttock, urging him closer. He settled himself between her thighs and entered her with one swift push. He thrust into her a few more times, taking her mouth, tangling his tongue with hers. "Want to try another new one?" He asked, grinning wickedly down at her. She loved this playful, adventurous side of him.

"Okay," She nodded, her eyes narrowing with concentration. She wanted to please him so bad.

"Turn over," He instructed. He wrapped his arms around her, spreading her legs, lifting her up so she was positioned on her hands and knees. He placed himself at her entrance, "Relax, breathe for me baby."

She glanced over her shoulder at him as he thrust forward, burying himself deep inside her. Pleasure beyond her wildest expectations coursed through her entire body. "Sweet Jesus." She moaned.

She felt Dean lean over her, his lips hot against her ear, "Oh just wait, baby doll." With that he straightened up away from her and began pounding into her.

Christine felt herself slip a little, and hugged a pillow underneath her stomach for support. Dear God it felt like he was going to rip her apart and give her the best orgasm of her life all at the same time.

"Oh fuck!" Dean panted, "You are so fucking tight, sweetness. So. Good." Just a few more thrusts and Christine tumbled over the edge of oblivion, Dean followed her with a roar of satisfaction. He pulled out of her, and disposed of the condom quickly so he could tend to her.

Christine felt like the room was weightless. She didn't quite register the reality of still having her ass stuck up in the air. Dean returned to the bed and helped her unclench the pillow and snuggle into his chest.

"We should fight more often," Christine said after a few moments.

"As long as it ends like that, I'm in." Dean murmured with a cheeky grin, kissing her temple.

"Always," Christine murmured as sleep overtook her.

* * *

A few hours later, she woke to find her tank top and panties back in place, Dean snored softly in her ear, he at least had his boxers back on. She leaned up on an elbow. Sam sat at the table in the tiny kitchenette. The light from his computer gave his face an eerie glow. She slid from the bed, padding softly to the bathroom. After relieving her bladder, she reemerged to find Sam still at the table.

"Hey," He whispered, flashing her a sheepish grin.

"Hey," She answered, sliding into the chair opposite him.

"You two okay now?" Sam asked, looking her in the eye.

Christine always appreciated how direct Sam was when it came to his brother. She nodded. "Oh yeah." She grinned, pressing her knuckles to her lips with a giggle.

Sam rolled his eyes, but kept his smile. "All that matters is you two trust each other. We can't work together if we don't trust one another."

Christine nodded. She thought for a moment. "Sam, there are a few things you need to know about me, things that happened with Lenore back in Atlanta." She began softly.

Sam sat back in his chair, and closed his laptop. "I'm all ears."

For the next half hour Christine told Sam the same story she told Dean a few hours earlier.

"Huh," Sam scoffed, "That explains a lot." He smiled. He continued speaking when he caught her look of confusion. "Well, it makes sense that you felt you owed a life debt to Lenore, regardless if she was a vampire or not." He chuckled softly, "Dean was so pissed. He even called you 'Xena Warrior Princess' at one point."

"Really?" She said brightly, a little afraid it might become a nickname or something.

"Really," Dean said groggily from their bed.

"How long you been awake?" Sam asked, pulling his sweatshirt over his head, walking over to the empty bed.

"Long enough to know you two kids have made up in your special nerdy way." Dean said with a smile. He swung himself out of bed and took over the bathroom for a few moments.

"What? Talking?" Christine exclaimed. Dean emerged from the bathroom, picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder. "Well, considering we talked_ then had make up_, well we-"

"Okay, that's far enough." Sam said, clapping his hands over his ears. "I get the picture," He motioned between them. Christine giggled, and Dean chuckled.

"Get used to it Sammy, she's not going anywhere, if I can help it." He said suddenly sober. Then he laughed again, "Alright, enough chick flick moments. Let's grab a few more hours then high tail it to Bobby's." He knew Christine missed Bobby. He wouldn't admit it, but he missed the old man too.

* * *

_from the author's desk…_

_Barracuda - Heart - personally the guitar riff is just PERFECT for Christine's hunting debut with the boys. I know, she helped for a hot second on the Rakshasa hunt in Wisconsin. Now, she's had time to get comfortable with Sam and Dean, so she's back to her usual, take charge self. _

_Up next we'll have a little pit stop at Bobby's. Everyone will go their separate way for a little while. Then I'm picturing having Christine at the Roadhouse visiting Jo when the boys show up and snag Jo's file. I'm toying with the idea that Christine will go with the boys, or she'll stay and then help Jo when she decides to go anyway. We'll see where Christine takes us. She's the one driving this boat anyway…cheers!_

_xoxo_

_Lumora the White _


	15. American Girl

**Long, Long Way From Home**

_Previously…_

"What? Talking?" Christine exclaimed. Dean emerged from the bathroom, picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder. "Well, considering we talked_ then had make up_, well we-"

"Okay, that's far enough." Sam said, clapping his hands over his ears. "I get the picture," He motioned between them. Christine giggled, and Dean chuckled.

"Get used to it Sammy, she's not going anywhere, if I can help it." He said suddenly sober. Then he laughed again, "Alright, enough chick flick moments. Let's grab a few more hours then high tail it to Bobby's." He knew Christine missed Bobby. He wouldn't admit it, but he missed the old man too.

* * *

**Chapter 15 : American Girl **

**One Week Later**

"That better be what I think it is!" Dean shouted as he came up the back porch steps, wiping his hands on a rag. They had stuck around Bobby's for a week while Dean fixed a few suspension parts on Baby and helped Christine retune Roxy's engine. Sam had kept busy reading and answering phones while Bobby was out.

Christine laughed as she pulled the apple pie she had set to cool an hour ago from the window sill. "Not until after dinner, Winchester!" She shouted back as she heard the screen door bang shut.

Dean entered the kitchen and suddenly became very speechless. Christine stood at the window, washing her hands in the sink. Her golden hair was piled on top of her head with what he guess were bobby pins. She wore bedazzled denim shorts, and a black tank. But being in the kitchen brought the luscious addition of a red and white checked frilly apron paired with bare feet. When she turned around to face him, he could see flour sticking to her cheeks and nose. She dried her hands on her apron and found him staring at her.

"Dean?" She asked, taking a step towards him.

"Yeah," He said, making a beeline for the counter where the pie sat.

"Don't touch that!" She chided, swatting his backside playfully.

"Hey now!" Dean exclaimed with a grin. "Looks delicious, babe." He said, turning around to face her. She was back at the sink, washing a few dishes.

"Good," She answered, "Dinner's in the oven, its almost done." As she chattered on about what exactly was in the oven, Dean came over to the sink, snatching the dish rag from her hands. "Hey!" She protested, spinning around to face him.

He towered over her, wearing his signature shit eating grin. "Hey, yourself." He purred, wiping away the flour that had accumulated on her cheeks and nose.

She blushed a pretty pink, muttering, "Thank you."

"Anytime, sugar." He said, placing a kiss on her now clean nose.

Bobby entered the kitchen to find Dean Winchester gently wiping off his daughter's face with a dish cloth. If he hadn't seen it, he wouldn't have believed it. The Winchesters were known for their ruthlessness, not their gentleness. Maybe having Christine to care for brought that out in the eldest Winchester. He was an older brother, and the instinct was probably already there. Bobby cleared his throat, and Christine scurried out from between Dean and the sink, her blush deepening.

"Sorry, Dad." She said, "Dinner should be on the table in a moment." She made herself busy setting the table.

Sam came into the kitchen next. "Anything I can do to help?" He asked Christine as she poured lemonade into glasses.

She looked up at him with a grateful smile. "Sure, uh. How about tossing the salad and setting it on the table?" She asked, spinning to miss Dean who had now decided he needed to do something too.

"What about me, ma'am?" He asked, opening the fridge.

"Grab the ranch dressing and find a seat. We're ready to eat!" She exclaimed as Bobby took a seat at the table. She pulled the pork roast and potatoes out of the oven and brought them to the table.

"We should come to dinner more often, Bobby." Dean said, jabbing the older man with his elbow good-naturedly. Bobby gave him a small smile. It was nice to have the boys around, now a days that meant having Christine around too.

They all ate and talked about cases they had been on or helped out with since they last saw each other. "I think I'm going to stick around here for a bit," Christine suddenly said amid a lull in their conversation. Dean gave a her a look that bordered on panic. "Sam said he wanted to go visit your Mom's grave, so it seemed like a thing you do as brothers. alone. Plus, my band has a gig at the beginning of next week at the bar in town again." She shrugged, getting up from the table, clearing away their plates.

"Okay…" Dean started to say.

"Don't worry, you can't get rid of me that easy, Winchester." Christine assured him, slicing the pie she made.

"How long is a little bit?" Sam asked, he could see the panic rising on his brother's face. He liked having Christine around, he found her to be very valuable on a hunt, even if it was like having two Deans around sometimes.

"Two, maybe three weeks? Three tops." She answered returning the table with plates of apple pie and vanilla ice cream. "My band has a gig at the Roadhouse in about three weeks, we could meet up there." She suggested, settling back down at the table.

_Three weeks?!_ Dean looked down at his plate of pie and ice cream. Usually he would have a tremendous appetite, especially for homemade pie. Now he felt this dread, sitting like a rock in his stomach. This was how it always went. He'd meet someone special then the job, or life itself pulled them apart. He took a bite of pie and almost cried. "Oh wow." He said around his mouthful of pie.

"My great-grandmother's recipe." She said with a smirk. "There's more if you're still hungry later. Maybe a midnight snack?"

Dean looked up and almost choked on his spoon. Christine was looking at him with mischievous glint in her eye. She was also sensually licking her spoon like it was his cock. "Sure," He squeaked and then cleared his throat. Sam and Bobby looked up from their plates, completely oblivious to their previous exchange.

"It will be nice to have you around the house, Christine." Bobby said. As much as he missed her company, he didn't want her to feel like she had to stay home with him. She did have the right to live her own life. If hunting with the Winchesters was what made her happy, so be it.

"You just want me around so there's someone to do the laundry and cook a decent meal once in awhile." Christine giggled. It was nice that Bobby did want her around. She was afraid he might feel abandoned when she ran off with the Winchesters a few weeks ago.

"I'm sure its more than that," Sam said with a smile.

"I know," Christine said, her eyes never leaving Dean. He wouldn't meet her gaze again as they all continued to enjoy dessert.

"This pie," Sam said with a mouthful, "Oh man. You're going to be making this all the time for Dean, he loves-" He stopped speaking as Dean stood up from the table.

"Thanks for dinner Chris." Dean said, taking his plate to the sink. Then he disappeared out the back door, loping off towards the garage.

"I'll take care of the dishes." Bobby said quickly, standing up and moving towards the sink.

"I'll dry." Sam offered, joining Bobby at the sink.

"Awww, you guys don't have to do that-" Christine started to protest. Both men turned and looked at her with pointed looks. "Ah, I guess I'll go see where Dean went. Yeah." She slipped on her nearest boots, grabbed a cooler, which Bobby filled with ice, and shoved a six pack in it, and took off for the garage. She knew Baby was parked out there since Dean mentioned wanting to change her oil before they left for Illinois.

She reached the garage just as Dean was sliding into the driver's seat. She raced around and pulled open the passenger door, sliding onto the seat, setting the cooler on the seat between them. "Where to?" She asked with a grin, leaning against the passenger door, her right arm resting on the open widow sill.

* * *

Dean couldn't take the nicety anymore. He needed to get out and breathe. The pie was amazing, having dinner as a makeshift family was amazing. It was too good to be true. What if they couldn't be at the roadhouse in three weeks? What if there was another case they were stuck on? What then? This type of thing never worked in this life. This was why most hunters were bitter old men who'd lost wives and children to the supernatural. They didn't get to be happy, to live some apple pie life. So he fled. He made sure to thank Chris for dinner, but he couldn't stay.

He decided a drive would help him think. Maybe he'd go up to hunter's point and watch the sun set. He slid into the driver's seat only to have Christine slide into the seat beside him. She'd even brought a cooler, which he hoped was filled with beer, with her. God dammit. How was he supposed to resist this? He shook his head. "No idea."

She settled back into the seat, kicking up her heels unto the dash, revealing her fire engine red boots. "Good." She smiled, with a wink.

Dean turned the key, and pulled out of the salvage yard. He jumped on the main road and drove into town. Friday night had the main thoroughfare rocking. Freshly polished cars and trucks gleamed under the slowly powering up street lights and setting sun. They came to a red light. When he came to a stop he looked over at Chris. She was watching a couple walking down the sidewalk on the left side of the street. The man had his hand on the woman's back as he guided her along towards the bar entrance. She glanced down at what she was wearing; black tank, denim shorts and red cowboy boots.

Dean wasn't much of dancer, but from what he saw Christine do on stage, he knew she was. Before he lost his nerve he turned left into a street parking space in front of the bar.

"I think it's EDM night." Christine said, looking over at Dean, bitting her lip. Dean gave her a blank look, "Uh, Electronic Dance Music…" She explained.

Dean just shrugged. "I could use a little escape." He winked at her, "Shall we?"

The bar pulsed with deep bass and strobe lights. It looked completely different than the last night they were here together. The crowd, for one, was completely different. Rather than men in their mid thirties and forties surrounded by their drinking buddies, younger men and women filled the bar and the dance floor almost to capacity. "You sure about this?" Christine asked into his ear.

He stared down at her. She looked eager to get out on the dance floor, while he just wanted a few shots of whiskey to dull the ache that had settled into his bones. "I'm gonna grab a drink, want anything?"

"Sure," She said, following him over to an empty space at the bar, conveniently located next to the dance floor.

"Whiskey, neat, make it a double." Dean ordered, then looked over at Christine.

"Make that two, please." She said with a nod. Their drinks arrived quickly and Christine took a healthy draw. Suddenly Usher's _Caught Up _started oozing from the speakers. She started subconsciously swinging her hips and shoulders to the beat.

Dean noticed she liked the song, He pulled her to him and murmured in her ear, "Go, have fun." He knocked back the glass. He knew he'd have to fend off the men in like t-minus five.

She flashed him a radiant smile, hopping off her bar stool. She found an empty space on the dance floor and started swinging her hips again. This girl really knew how to move. Some of the men around her noticed, and attempted to dance with her. Dean signaled for another drink. One snuggled up to her back, his hand resting on her hip. She kept dancing, moving away a little. Suddenly the guy spun her around, grabbing her surprised hands and started dancing with her, rather than just being plastered up against her like before. She tossed her head and gave him a shy smile. He leaned in a whispered into her ear. She nodded, and bit her lip. Then he pulled her closer, and began dancing again. She matched him step for step, they seemed to be doing some form of salsa. He twirled and dipped her, whispering in her ear. She shook her head, glancing in Dean's direction. The guy met his eyes and Dean nodded, raising his glass.

Christine couldn't believe what was happening. Dean didn't come charging in when this guy asked to dance with her. He said his name was Levi, and she said back, "Christine," looking over at Dean. He had swiveled on his stool to rest his back against the bar and stare directly at her. Levi didn't seem too threatened by the idea she came with someone. So she nodded, and let him lead her in a funky salsa step.

Dean began to think coming to the bar was a bad idea. He downed his second drink and stood up from the bar stool, throwing a few bills on the counter to cover their tab.

_I'm so…caught up_

_Got me feelin' it…caught up_

_I don't know what it is _

_but its seems she's got me twisted_

_I'm so…caught up_

_Really feelin' it…caught up_

_I'm loosing control_

_this girl's gotta hold on me_

He reached the pair as the chorus repeated one last time. She did have him 'caught up' alright. He stood by, until the words faded away, then he stepped him, smoothly pushing the other man away from her, catching her by surprise. "Dean!' She exclaimed, a little breathless. "I thought-" She stopped moving to the music, reaching up to bring his gaze down to hers. She searched his eyes. He wasn't visibly angry, a little jealous maybe but, "You're not mad?" She asked with a shy smile.

"Nah," He said, pulling her closer, rolling his hips against hers in time with the ending song.

"Let's slow it down a little bit, this song has had a long run at the top of the chart. Mario, Let Me Love You. Grab someone and hold 'em close." The DJ said over the intro.

Christine cheered along with the rest of the crowd, Dean chuckled at her enthusiasm. "This one too?" He purred into her ear.

"Oh yeah," She giggled, biting her lip. She turned around and pressed her back against his chest, throwing her arm up around his neck. She covered his other hand with her own on her hip. She followed the pulsing bass line with her hips, he caught on, and lost himself in the lyrics.

_You should let me love you_

_Let me be the one to_

_Give you everything you want and need_

_Baby good love and protection_

_Make me your selection_

_Show you the way love's supposed to be_

_Baby you You should let me love you, _

_love you, love you, love you, yeah_

Christine had danced to this song a few times here at this bar with Joel. Dancing with Dean was completely different. Instead of awkward touches and glances, she fit into his frame perfectly, and he could keep up with her. Dean was an alpha male, if she ever saw one. Joel just didn't get her blood pumping like this man did. It helped he was the best hunter she knew and he was all in. Joel always talked about "getting out." Christine didn't want out, and wanted to be with someone who wanted that too.

Dean spun her around in his arms so he could claim her mouth in a deep kiss. He tasted whiskey and her shiny strawberry lip balm. She sighed against him, arching into his kiss. Good Lord, he wanted to be anywhere else with her than on this God damn dance floor. Who knew she liked RnB so much? He let go of her mouth to breathe and control himself. A woman next them yelled into her friend's ear, "See that? That's what I want."

"So. Hot." Her friend yelled back, spilling a little bit of her drink.

"Hey handsome! Why don't you come over here and lay that body on me!" The first woman shouted to them. Christine felt her cheeks flame.

They continued to sway to the music, Christine could tell Dean was getting uncomfortable with all the attention they were receiving. She leaned up and whispered in his ear, "Wanna get outta here?"

"I thought'd you'd never ask." He murmured back, pulling her through the crowd and out the back door. He pulled her to his side, his hand protectively on the small of her back like the couple they saw on the way in. When they reached the Impala, he opened the passenger side door for her. He quickly slipped behind the wheel and peeled out of town back towards Bobby's house.

He kept stealing glances at Christine. She was staring out the window, her teeth worrying her bottom lip. Her eyes looked watery and she kept running her hands through her hair. "Turn here," She said quietly, he probably wouldn't of heard her if he hadn't been looking at her. He followed her instructions and turned down a small dirt road just before Bobby's compound. The road snaked around and dumped them out behind the garage near the small stream that ran over the far corner of the property. The pole barn stood between them and the salvage yard, which stood between the barn and the house. It was perfect seclusion considering they were in the middle of nowhere anyway.

Christine knew she didn't want to be far from home, but she did want to be alone with Dean before they were apart for awhile. She had him turn off on the freight entrance for the salvage yard. When Dean put Baby in park, Christine took out the cooler and set it on the grass down in front of the hood of the Impala. She pulled out two beers and cracked them open, handing Dean one, closing the lid with her heel. He left the key on, radio tuned to the local RnB station, turned down low. They clicked bottles together, and took a long drag. They drank for a while, watching the lightning bugs gather in the brush around the softly rippling water.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean swore, after draining his beer, tossing it into the weeds.

Christine turned to him, setting her beer on the hood of the Impala. She slid over the hood on her hip, stopping just inches from his side. "There's more beer, silly!" She exclaimed, reaching down to flip open the cooler.

Dean reached out and grabbed her around the waist pulling her upright again. He moved over her, pinning her down on the hood. He just stared down at her, chest heaving.

Christine didn't shy away from him, despite her squeak of surprise. She reached up and fluffed his hair a little. "I'm sorry," She whispered, her eyes welling up with tears. "I-I didn't mean t-to make y-you angry." She stammered a little bit, trying desperately not to cry.

Dean squeezed his eyes shut. Anger was always his first reaction. It made him more angry that he was angry. What terrible combination. He swallowed hard. It was now or never. "What did I do?" He asked, searching her eyes.

Oh God. He really thought this was his fault. "Oh Dean," She cooed. "No, baby. You didn't do anything. I'm just not used to being on the road that long-" She stopped when his eyes glazed over. He had stopped listening. He heard what he wanted to hear.

Dean leaned away from her, settling on the hood again, _here it comes…_He thought. _She doesn't want to live this life. Did she understand he lived for this life? _

"Now you let me finish, Dean Winchester." Christine spat, leaning over him, just like he had done to her. "I was saying," She continued angrily, "I'm just not used to being on the road that long, _yet._"

_Yet? _His mind raced. _Was she saying what he thought she was?_

"That's right, cowboy." Christine nodded watching his wheels turn. "You aren't getting rid of me that easy." He reached up and pushed a few stray curls out of her eyes. "I've got a few commitments that make it tough to be all in. I want to be all in. That's going to take me a hot second, okay?" She asked, searching his eyes.

Dean couldn't believe his ears. "Say it again." He murmured huskily. He needed to hear her say it again.

She smiled like a fox. "I want all in." He looked like a kid on Christmas morning. "I want you, Winchester." She whispered, leaning in to press her lips to his.

He lifted her then so she kneeled over his lap on the hood of the Impala. She wrapped her arms around his neck and let him pull her up into his lap, not breaking their kiss. The sunset behind them didn't compare to the look Dean gave her when she said she wanted to be all in. It looked like joy, with a little hint of peace. "Good," He answered her confession, straightening up away from the hood.

He carried her towards the back seat. She wrapped her legs around his waist and reached behind her to yank the door open. "Are you sure you've never done this before?" He asked cheekily, laying her out on the backseat.

Christine just stared up him, biting her lip. She was nervous to have sex with him in the backseat of the Impala. She was sure he'd at least done this before. How would she measure up? She pushed the thoughts away, letting him take her away from the world for a little while. "Can't wait," He choked out in between kisses. "Need you, now baby." He worked on his fly, and she heard the rustle of a foil packet as he continued to plunder her mouth. She let go of his neck to work on her own clothing. She didn't even get her jeans down her legs and he was thrusting up inside her. Good thing they had an hour of foreplay and some alcohol to soften his entrance. He reached between them, his fingers bringing her to the edge quicker than she thought was possible. Suddenly all thought fled as she tumbled over the edge and felt him come hard inside her. He practically roared his release, his face buried in her neck. He helped her right her clothes and let her redo his belt.

"Mmmm," She hummed happily as he wrapped her up in his arms, lounging on the back seat like it was a couch. She turned to face him, turning her face up a little to press her lips to his. "I guess I deserved that." She said laughing on soft breath.

Dean lifted a brow in inquiry. She deserved it? Frankly he was a little embarrassed he had taken her like a savage animal, "Do tell…" He said with a grunt of satisfaction.

"I got you all worked up at the bar," She purred back, "and then I went all dominatrix on you." She giggled at the memory of pinning him to the hood. He had gotten an instant hard on. She took a mental note to use it to her advantage someday in the bedroom.

He chuckled at that. "You're okay?" He asked, letting his hand smooth down from her shoulders to her waist.

She nodded. It was now fully dark. "Should we go back to the house?" She asked, sitting upright.

"Might as well," Dean sighed. He didn't want to let her go, but he did need to sleep a few hours if he and Sam were going to make the drive to Illinois tomorrow.

"Three weeks?" He asked sliding into the driver's seat. She had already loaded the cooler into the backseat. She settled into his side, her head resting on his shoulder.

"Three weeks, Winchester. 21 days, give or take." She yawned. "Just think it was ten years before that. If anything, I'm letting you get off easy." She teased as came to a stop at the house.

"We'll be at the Roadhouse for your next gig." He said as they walked up to the house.

"Last gig." She said quietly causing him to stop halfway up the stairs.

"What?" Dean asked.

Bobby sat on the porch, watching the two kids climb out of the freshly rebuilt Impala. He knew Christine would find the boy before he ran off without her. The two of them needed to figure out what this thing between them was going to be. He knew this day would come. He would either lose her to Joel and his band of idiots, or Dean Winchester would come back. He didn't want to lose her at all, but he was glad she was at least running off with a Winchester. After all, they were the best in the business.

"Last gig, Winchester." She said, turning back to face him.

"But you love-" Dean started to say.

"But nothing, Dean." She stopped him, putting up her hand. "The band and I have been together for six, almost seven years. We've had a great time. I'm ready to move on and have another adventure."

Dean could hardly believe his ears. She was giving up performing to go on the road?

Christine leaned against the porch railing. "It's too hard to schedule gigs when hunts are never predictable time-wise. Plus I'd like to be out on the road, see the country like you two chuckleheads do everyday."

Bobby cleared his throat, Christine spun around and found him sitting in an old rocking chair on the back corner of the porch. She walked over to him. "Hey, Dad." She said leaning down and placing a kiss on Bobby's cheek.

"Don't let me interrupt," He said with a smile. Christine just rolled her eyes.

Dean couldn't take the guilt. "I didn't expect you to just drop your life. I don't want to be the reason-"

"You are, Winchester. You are the reason I'm hitting the road. Deal with it!" She shouted. "I've waited ten years for you to come back. Don't let your inferiority complex screw this thing up!"

Dean couldn't help the smile that played at his lips. Then he threw his head back and laughed.

"What? What is so funny?!" Christine asked, letting him wrap her up in his arms again.

"Inferiority complex, huh?" He asked, she nodded, chin lifting defiantly. "I guess I can live with that, for now." He murmured, leaning down to kiss her softly. Nothing too deep, didn't want Bobby to run him off with a shot gun or anything.

"Well, I'm glad you two crazy kids have made up." Bobby said standing up from his chair. "I'm beat, see you in the morning." Christine pulled away from Dean to give Bobby a hug and a kiss on the cheek goodnight.

Sam emerged from the house, book in hand. "Hey," He said brightly, "Christine, have you read this volume about how vampires originated?"

Dean watched as Christine engaged Sam in conversation, she threw him an apologetic look as Sam asked her to come inside to compare notes. He just waved her away with a nod. Sam was so oblivious sometimes. He did appreciate Christine got along with him. Sam was the only family he had left, not counting Bobby or Christine. He turned away from the house and leaned against the porch railing. Watching the lightning bugs flit around the yard he went back to the summer before his Dad and Bobby had their falling out.

* * *

**Late Summer 1995**

"**Dean!" Christine shouted in a whisper from her place in the yard. They had wandered out behind the pole barn towards the stream that ran over the back corner of the property. **

**He kept his hand over the almost full jar of lightning bugs as he jogged his way over to her. **

"**Shhh!" She ordered, waving him to follow her into the weeds a little. Her fourteen year old self was just a shorter, less bloomed version of what he knew so well now. She still looked incredibly beautiful bathed in the pale moonlight. **

**He took the lid of the jar out of his back pocket and carefully screwed it on. He set it down int he grass and followed her into the weeds. He heard the sight that had caught her attention before he saw it. Low moans of pleasure and giggles of delight reached his ears. **

**Christine crouched down low, hiding herself from view in the tall grass. A young man and woman lay on a picnic blanket on the opposite bank, kissing. Her eyes grew wide as the young man's hands went under the young woman's shirt. She turned to see Dean coming towards her. He crouched down next to her and watched as her cheeks flame as the young man began to paw the young woman, pressing his body closer to hers. **

**Dean had only kissed one girl, Robin. It happened when he got caught trying to steal some bread and peanut butter for Sammy and got sent to Sonny's home for boys in Hurleyville, NY earlier that year. They watched for a few more minutes before Dean grabbed Christine's hand and whispered in her ear, "We should go," She nodded and let him lead her out of the brush.**

**Dean picked up the jar of bugs and followed Christine back towards the house. She went up the steps and into the house before he could ask her if she was okay. He knew seeing something like for the first time would be confusing, maybe a little exciting, at least that was what he thought when he saw kissing for the first time.**

**He let the bugs go, watching them cautiously swarm up and out of the jar. He set the jar on the railing and went inside the house. Christine wasn't on the first floor. Bobby sat in the den, he had fallen asleep in the arm chair next to the fireplace. He continued through the house and went up the stairs, all the way down the hall to Christine's room. He found her sitting at her desk, bent over her journal. He knocked a little on the door, causing her to slam the journal shut and whirl around to face him. **

"**Hey," He started to say, walking into the room. Suddenly Christine stood in front of him, staring at his lips. "Christine…?" He asked, placing his hands on her shoulders. **

"**Huh?" She said, blinking as if coming out of a trance. "Oh, hey, Dean." She said, her cheeks turning pink. **

**He walked them over to the bed to sit down for a moment. They didn't speak for a few breaths, then Dean asked softly, "You okay?" He gently tilted her chin up to look into her eyes. **

**Christine was having trouble breathing. She wanted to ask Dean something, but she was afraid of his answer. She took a deep breath, "Dean?" She asked.**

"**Yeah?" He said, letting his hands rest on either side of her face. **

"**Uh, have you ever done that? W-what we saw?" She asked, her eyes flitting closed. **

"**Yeah," Dean nodded, unable to lie to her, "Why do you ask?" He said, a rush of relief hitting him when she met his eyes again.**

"**Well," She swallowed hard, "Would you ever want to do that with me?" She asked in a tiny whisper. Where was her bravery now? She dropped her gaze. **

**Dean didn't know how to respond, of course he wanted to do that with her. He followed her around like a love sick puppy most of the time. "Christine, I think we-" **

"**Sam! Dean! Time to go!" Bobby called up the stairs. His Dad was back. **

**Before he could change his mind, he kissed her on the cheek and stood up. "Dad's back gotta go," She nodded, with a sad smile. "See ya Chris." He turned and fled before she could even say goodbye. He knew they'd be back eventually. He just hoped she would wait until they were older to ask him that question again.**

* * *

Three weeks. He could do that. She was right, he was getting off easy after ten years of separation. He pushed off the railing, and entered the house. He came into the library to find Sam behind Bobby's desk and Christine perched on the edge of the desk in quite the sexy position. Her right hip rested on the desk surface while her left leg crossed over her right hanging over the front of the desk. She leaned over to the right looking at a picture Sam was showing her from the book on the desk top. Aw Hell. Three weeks was going to be torture.

* * *

_from the author's desk…_

_American Girl - Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers - This is Christine's theme song. This chapter is a huge turning point for her as a character. She stands up to Dean, and makes a choice for herself, not for Bobby and not for her friends. She makes the decision to hit the road with the Winchesters, but she does it in a responsible way. _

_Well, here we are at a three week hiatus for our lovely couple. I promise a sweet, hot reunion and a great case coming your way in a little bit. I must be on a roll. Three chapters in three days. Don't expect this pace to be normal. I've been sick, cooped up on the couch for a couple of days. _

_Special thanks to __**ebonywarrior85. **__Thank you for your reviews. It really encourages me and keeps me going. I hope you enjoyed this one. I'm looking forward to getting on the road, but its nice to establish a foundation for Dean and Christine's relationship. As the Winchester's say, "We've got work to do!" _

_xoxo_

_Lumora the White_


	16. Tonight

**Long, Long Way From Home**

_Previously…_

_Three weeks. He could do that. She was right, he was getting off easy after ten years of separation. He pushed off the railing, and entered the house. He came into the library to find Sam behind Bobby's desk and Christine perched on the edge of the desk in quite the sexy position. Her right hip rested on the desk surface while her left leg crossed over her right hanging over the front of the desk. She leaned over to the right looking at a picture Sam was showing her from the book on the desk top. Aw Hell. Three weeks was going to be torture._

* * *

**Chapter 16 : Tonight**

**Three Weeks Later**

The music had already started. Christine told Joel and the boys to go on without her, she'd be there in time like always. She took one last glance in the mirror and exited the bathroom, slipping in her in ear monitors. '_Last one baby,' _She mused pulling the wireless mic out of her back pocket. Dean called her every couple of days to update her on their whereabouts and sometimes even ask about lore. While she appreciated the gesture, it just made the days he didn't call drag by. She scanned the room and sighed. Still no sign of the Winchesters.

* * *

Dean Winchester was late. "Son of a bitch!" He exclaimed as the clock on the dash changed to 7:00PM.

"We're almost there, Dean." Sam said, praying the band hadn't gone on yet. Making it to the Roadhouse tonight was all Dean talked about for three weeks. Three weeks. Even he was ready to have Christine back with them. Dean was calmer and less explosive during interviews with her around. This last hunt helping out Andy took longer than they anticipated. This is exactly why Christine was calling it quits with her band.

The Impala pulled into the Roadhouse parking lot coming to a dusty stop. Dean jumped out and raced to the door, not waiting for his brother. He could hear music playing, but no singing. Christine wasn't on stage yet, thank God.

"Bad Reputation?" Sam asked coming to a stop next to Dean. Dean gave Sam a questioning look. "What? Joan Jett and the Blackhearts rock…" He answered.

Dean shrugged. Joan Jett was a little punky sounding for his taste. He was looking forward to having his little song bird change his mind. A toss of blonde hair caught his eye. She stood on a table in the center of the room. She didn't seem to see them yet, her focus was on Joel. She gave him a nod, then looked back out over the crowd. Then she locked eyes with him, her eyes widening a little. Her lips twisted into a sexy, 'come hither' smile and she sang with incredible grit:

_I don't give a damn 'bout my reputation_

_You're livin' in the past, its a new generation_

_A girl can do what she wants and that's what I'm gonna do_

_I don't give a damn 'bout my bad reputation_

_Oh no! _

_Not me!_

Dean pressed forward into the crowd and noticed the table was empty, save for Bobby sitting in one of the three chairs and her standing on the table top. He strode forward and took the chair she pushed out for him with her boot. He nodded to Bobby and he and Sam took a seat.

_An' I don't give a damn 'bout my reputation_

_Never said I wanted to improve my station_

_An' I'm only doing good when I'm having fun_

_An' I don't have to please no one_

_I don't give a damn 'bout my bad reputation_

_Oh no!_

_Not me!_

She jumped down from the table, and continued up onto the stage. The band finished the song and were met with a huge round of applause, cat calls and whistles. Christine wore the leather jacket she wore hunting, pushed up to her elbows. Black leather fingerless gloves encased her palms highlighting her red fingernail polish. The rest of her outfit was black, save for the red boots she wore the last night they were together.

Dean leaned back in his chair, sipping the beer Bobby had flagged their waitress down for. He kicked himself for not leaving their motel sooner this morning. She'd assured him when he'd called that morning that everything was fine. He needed his sleep. He'd bit back his reply, _but I need you more… _This woman might just be the death of him.

Christine didn't believe her eyes at first, not until Sam and Dean made their way to the table she was standing on and Bobby sat at did she believe they were really there. She almost dropped everything and kissed him right then and there. That wouldn't have been professional, but she was singing about not caring about her reputation…nah. It was better to just go on with the show. She'd have plenty of time to catch up with Dean after the show. The rest of the first set went by in a blur. They ended the set with _Rock N' Roll Fantasy _by Bad Company. Dean watched as Christine sang lead, hitting every sigh and note with perfection. Seemed like a good song for their last set as a band. This probably was their fantasy as kids. He did always think being a rockstar would have been awesome. He just didn't have the time to learn an instrument. Maybe with Christine around he'd have more live music in his life.

The song ended and Christine informed the audience, "Thanks ya'll! We'll be back in fifteen minutes." She turned to her bandmates, and gave each of them a high five, pulling them in for a hug so she could speak in their ear. After she spoke with each one, she jumped off the stage and checked her phone. Dean texted her.

_**Your room. Now. **_

Christine felt desire clench in her stomach swift and sweet. She waved at Bobby and Sam as she passed headed out the back towards the supply room. She practically ran down the hallway to her room finding the door a little a jar. She pushed it open and looked around. Suddenly Dean emerged from the shadows, pinning her against the door he shut with his foot. He brushed her hair out of her eyes, brushing his thumb over her slightly parted lips. He didn't say anything, so Christine threw her arms around his neck and pulled his lips down to hers. Dean let loose a moan that went directly to her core as he pushed her harder against the door. Instinct told her to wrap her legs around his waist. He followed her lead, gripping her ass, and carried her over to the bed.

"Dean," She panted in between kisses, "I only have a few minutes."

"Don't worry baby doll." He moaned, he felt like he was starved for her body. "I've got plans for you later. This is just a taste." He continued to press open mouthed kisses down her chest, swiftly peeling up her tank top so he could free a breast from its lacy cup. He latched on to her nipple and swirled his tongue around it.

Suddenly a knock sounded at her door. She scrambled to right her clothes as Dean peeled himself off her.

"Christine?" Joel Lane asked, "I wanted to ask you a question about-" He was cut off by her yanking the door open.

"Hey Joel," She said clearing her throat.

"Hey, so-" Joel started to say but stopped when Dean joined Christine at the door.

"Oh yeah, Dean's here just-"

"Just like you said." Joel finished for her. He took a step back looking less sure of himself than he had when she first opened the door. "Yeah, uh I'm gonna grab you a water at the bar. I'll ask you about the song before we start…" Then he was gone.

Dean looked at her with a surprised look. He expected Joel to protest or tell him off, not run away. "We had a talk." Christine said, closing the door. "I guess it worked this time."

"I'd say it did," He laughed. He pulled her back into his arms. He stared at her for a moment then he murmured, "I missed you."

"Aww, don't go and get all mushy on me, Winchester." She teased, kissing him softly. Then she looked up at him and bit her lip. "I missed you too." She whispered, her eyes filling with tears. "Dammit Winchester, look what you did." She barked a laugh, turning to the mirror to make sure her mascara and eye liner remained intact.

Dean just smiled. He knew she missed him, it was written all over her face the whole time she was on stage tonight. "You're perfect." He murmured coming up behind her as she stared into the mirror.

Christine fluffed her hair, blushing a little at his complement. Then her phone buzzed.

**5 mins** It was from Jo.

**On my way xo **She quickly shot back, and placed her phone back in her jacket pocket.

"Dig the jacket." Dean pulling her to him and kissing her soundly.

Christine swayed on her feet a little and shook her head to clear the fog that settled into her brain when she was kissing Dean. The man could make her forget she was on fire, he was just that good. "Okay, let's do this." She muttered, squaring her shoulders. Dean opened the door and she beelined for the restroom next door. She rejoined him in the hallway and they continued on to the main bar area. The band was slowly assembling back on stage. Bobby and Sam were now at the bar talking with Ellen and Jo. Dean pulled her to him one last time, and kissed her. He released her and she just smiled, shaking her head. "Here goes nothing," She whispered into his ear then pulled back and gave him a wink. Dean let her go, and joined his brother and Bobby at the bar. Christine weaved her way through the tables to the stage where Joel stood waiting.

"You still want to do 'Tonight'?" He asked. He knew he'd lost Christine for good this time. The way she looked with Dean, well there was no use in denying it. Christine was in love with Dean Winchester.

"Hell yeah," Christine answered with a grin. It was perfect for the moment, and a great way to set the tone for their last set together as a band.

Joel nodded and signaled to the other band members what song they were doing. Then He looked at Christine and asked, "You ready?" She nodded, biting her lip. It was time to finish this chapter of her life. Time to begin another.

Dean watched as Joel asked Christine his question from earlier. He didn't lean in too far like he did the last time he saw the pair together. Joel respectfully kept his distance and didn't seem to look at her too long. He should have known she could take care of herself. It was nice though to be chosen, and to have it be so evident among her friends.

"So, you and _Christine Elliott_, huh?" Ellen teased him with a wink, pouring him a beer.

"Yeah," He admitted with a sheepish smile. He obviously needed work when it came to covertly gathering information.

"You hurt her, and I'll help her do whatever it is she needs. Us hunters, we can be pretty resourceful, sweetie." She warned, setting the beer before him.

"Yes ma'am." He choked out, forcing a smile. He wished his Dad had exposed Sam and him to other hunters growing up. They definitely missed out on the camaraderie this life could bring among the darkness. He took a sip of beer and turned around just as the band started singing, _Tonight _by Def Leppard.

_Ahhhhh_

_Oooooh_

They sang the intro completely a capella. Then Joel dropped in with his electric guitar.

"She really loves her Leppard, huh?" Dean asked Bobby. Bobby just smiled and nodded. He looked a little wistful and maybe a little misty-eyed.

Jo nodded as well, "Joe Elliott is a-" she began.

"Rock god." Dean finished for her with a laugh. "I know…"

"Girls and their Def Leppard, man." Sam sighed. "Jessica loved the stuff too." He looked a little misty eyed, but still smiled.

Dean clinked glasses with Sam "To Jess," He said heartily, taking a deep swig of beer.

The band sang the _'Tonight' _while Christine killed the finishing lyrics.

_Tonight - __**Gimme love with no disguise **_

_Tonight - __**I see the fire in your eyes **_

_Tonight - __**So right, this night could be dynamite **_

_**Wait**__** 'n' **__**see **_

_**If it pleases you it pleases me **_

The rest of the set was smattered with Leppard too. They didn't do an encore, but did end with a DL classic, 'Tear It Down,' from the Adrenalize album.

_You got the look of a howlin' wolf_

_I like it_

_The kind of eyes that could start a fire_

_yes, I like it_

_Street wise, dynamo_

_I switch you on and I watch you go_

_A thrill to touch, you're so hot_

_I'm coming for you ready or not_

She started off strong, jumping off the stage and into the crowd one last time. Christine could feel her chest tightening with the emotion of the moment. So she lost herself in the lyrics instead of getting too caught up in the moment.

_Tear it down! __**There's got to be a better way!**_

_Tear it down! __**I can't wait another day**_

_Tear it down! __**There's got to be a better way!**_

_Tear it down! I__**f only you could stay, all night long**_

Christine worked her way around the room to the bar through the next verse. With Jo's help, she got up on the edge of the bar and held onto the pole for support. The band sang the first part of the pre chorus and she answered from her place atop the bar.

_I'm getting ready! _

_**Living on the edge of a dream!**_

_I'm getting ready! _

_**So switch on your loving machine! **_

Dean found himself watching her eyes most of all. He knew she would be misty, he hadn't expected her to get misty at the line, 'living the edge of a dream.' He even felt a little misty himself. This was a huge moment for them. She was saying goodbye to a huge part of herself, and hello to a life very few chose freely. He considered her family and her upbringing for a moment. Maybe it wasn't that free of a choice at all.

Then came the chorus one last time.

_Tear it down! __**There's got to be a better way!**_

_Tear it down! __**I can't wait another day**_

_Tear it down! __**There's got to be a better way!**_

_Tear it down! __**If only you could stay, all night long**_

The crowd was on its feet, hooping and hollering, shouting for another song. Christine stepped back up on stage and bid them all a goodnight. "Thank you for coming to our farewell show. We love you. So, fare well out there, dear friends. Goodnight!" She shouted with a smile, a few tears running down her cheeks before she turned to face the band.

"I can ride back with Bobby if you want to stay with Christine." Sam offered while Christine hugged her friends and bandmates goodbye.

"Want to get rid of me that easy, huh?" Dean teased, play punching Sam in the shoulder. Sam just laughed. "Okay, I'll see if she's got Roxy or not." He worked his way through the crowd to find Christine and Jo huddled over a file at a table by the stage. Sam followed, curious as to what they were looking at.

"Maybe we could show Sam and Dean?" Christine suggested. She knew Jo wanted to take care of this hunt herself, but she also knew Ellen would have her head if she took Jo out in the field with her.

"Show us what?" Sam asked, stepping up and taking the file. Dean looked over his shoulder.

"Who put this together?" Dean asked, locking eyes with Jo.

"I did," Jo said, her chin lifting in pride.

"Its good work," Dean said with his infamous shit eating grin, picking up and leafing through the file. Jo blushed, turning back to Christine.

Christine stifled a yawn, "Well, I don't know about you boys, but I'm beat. I'm going hit the hay." She turned to Jo, "We can look over the file better in the morning, okay?"

"Sure, thanks sugar!" Jo said brightly, taking back her work from Dean and scampering off towards the bar.

"See, total school girl, nothing to worry about…" Dean murmured in her ear.

Christine nodded with a smile then turned to Sam, "Hey Sam, why don't you stick around. We'll see if the file Jo has is anything worth looking into in the morning. Ellen's got a couple of extra rooms out back, so if you're interested, we can hit the road in the morning…?" She asked, nodding to Bobby who had joined the group.

"Well, I'm gonna hit the road, kid. Sounds like you're going to be hitting the road too." He said, pulling her into a warm hug. "You stay safe out there, Christine. Love you." He whispered in her ear.

"Love you too, Dad." She said back and let go of his neck.

"You staying or going Sam?" Bobby asked, fishing the keys out of his pocket.

"Staying, I guess. Looks like we got a case." He said with a smile.

"Awesome." Dean said, "Let's get some shut eye." He said with a mischievous grin. He couldn't wait to get Christine alone, all to himself.

"Alright, stay safe out there." Bobby said with a wave and he left the bar.

Ellen and Jo were busy closing up so Christine showed Sam and Dean the vacant room, thankfully on the other side of the bathroom from hers. There were two beds, but she knew Dean would follow her into her room eventually.

"I'm gonna grab a shower," She said, turning leaving the boys in peace. "Let's grab breakfast at the diner in town, say 8:30?" She flashed a grin and disappeared back into the hall.

* * *

Dean wandered into Christine's room about a half hour later to find her showered, dressed and blow drying her hair. He had told Sam not to wait up for him. Sam just shooed him out of the room, mumbling something about sleep and quiet. "Just a minute!" She called when he knocked. A few seconds later the dryer shut off and the door flew open. "Hey," She whispered, hip resting on the door frame, hands holding the door.

"Hey," He said back, "Can I come in?" He asked with an infamous Winchester grin.

She nodded, stepping back to let him in, then closing the door. She wrapped up her hair dryer, tucking it back into her duffle. She only had one bag, granted it was a little larger than his own, but she only had one bag.

"That all you got?" He asked, perched on the edge of the bed.

She laughed, "Yeah," She shook her head a little, turning to face him. "Bobby said the same thing. Guess I just don't see the point in having a tone of stuff with me."

"Where's _Cherry Pie_?" He asked with a mischievous smile, earning a playful swat from Christine.

"_Roxy_," She corrected with a too wide smile, "is safe at Bobby's." She sighed. She was going to miss her Challenger, but the Impala, and the men who rode in it, were almost an even trade. Almost. She leaned against the now closed dresser, crossing her arms over her chest. "I hitched a ride with him up here yesterday. He had a few things he wanted to do in the area, so I rehearsed with the band and he went off and did his thing…" She trailed off as Dean stood up and moved closer to her. She threw her arms around his neck, stepping into his embrace.

"Three weeks." Dean murmured, his lips hovering over hers, his eyes meeting her heated gaze.

Christine nodded. "Feels like forever." She whispered, leaning up and pressing her lips to his. Their lips moved together in a slow rhythm. He let out a low moan as she pressed herself closer to him. He slid his hands down from her waist to palm her ass and lift her up against him. She hopped up and locked her ankles behind his back with a smile. She loved being lifted up against him like this. It made her feel incredibly sexy.

They continued to kiss like that for a few moments until Dean felt his legs begin to shake a little. He turned and gently deposited her down on the bed, breaking the kiss. He stared down at her while he toed off his boots and socks. His jeans and flannel shirt came next. "I've missed you." He murmured, his eyes roaming over her skin after he rid himself of his t-shirt. She sat up and shucked off her tank top revealing a black lacy bra. She went to unhook the bra, but he rushed forward and stilled her hands. "Let me." He insisted, green eyes wide and searching. She bit her lip and nodded, letting go. Dean kissed her, easing her back against the pillows, covering her body with his own. His talented fingers unsnapped her bra and drew it down slowly, revealing her skin to his wandering lips.

Christine sighed with pleasure as Dean's mouth trailed down her collarbone to her breast. Her fingers curled into the sheets and her hips bucked up as his tongue swirled around a rosy, hardening nipple. He softly sucked, while his other hand rolled the other nipple between his thumb and forefinger, holding her flesh gently in his palm. She spread her legs wider, using her foot to guide his growing erection to her core. She moaned as he obliged her by rolling his hips against her.

Dean turned his attention to Christine's hips, sliding off her soft pink sleep shorts and tossing them over his shoulder. "I've missed this." Dean breathed over her panties, his eyes flicking up to her face. She leaned up on her elbows to watch him. He hooked his fingers in her panties and slid them slowly down her legs, flinging them in the same direction as her shorts. He groaned at the sight of her. "Oh baby girl." he panted, "So fucking gorgeous." He kissed her inner thighs, urging them apart. He loved doing this to Christine. He loved the absolute control he had over her as she lost complete control.

Christine squirmed under his heated gaze. He looked at her like he was going to devour her. She had a mind to let him. "See something you like, Winchester?" Her voice sounded thick as she licked her lips.

Dean chuckled, "Oh yeah, baby girl." He pressed a kiss to her nether lips and then spread her apart with his fingers. He licked up her slit, swirling his tongue around her clit. She melted back against the pillows, surrendering to his ministrations. Dean had learned that the clitoris should be his focus, but just like his cock, it liked to be stroked more than flicked at. He discovered that his tongue was a much better instrument than his fingers. It could be the job naturally made his hands rough, but at any rate, the clit was too sensitive for them. His tongue, however, was a different story.

Christine felt her orgasm building and just before she tumbled over the edge Dean's tongue let go of her. "Dean!" She whined. Only this man could make her whine like a little school girl, and be extremely turned on at the same time. She reached for him as he moved back up her body. Her fingers wrapped around his hardened length, stroking softly.

Dean chuckled darkly. She was being so impatient. It made his chest swell tightly with an emotion he didn't want to name. Not yet, anyway. He rolled on a condom swiftly, positioning himself between her thighs. He wanted the closeness that the traditional position provided. He was being extremely mushy; no one but her had to know that. "You're beautiful." He whispered, sinking into her, letting out a deep moan of pleasure. Being inside her was like nothing else in the world. His most sought after pleasures like whiskey, pie, and the Impala paled in comparison to her body.

Christine leaned up a little to moan into Dean's ear, "Show me, show me who's my daddy." She tugged his earlobe with her teeth. She was so close, she needed him to push her further.

God, he loved it when she talked dirty. He hummed in approval. "Hold on, sweetness." He purred. He thrust hard and fast, taking her body mercilessly. She blew apart after a few hard thrusts, her broken cries muffled by her knuckles. He pulled her up so she straddled his lap, chest pressed to his. Her head fell back with pleasure at the angle change. "Chris," Dean murmured, her eye lids fluttered, "Look at me." he wanted to see her eyes when they came together. His hands smoothed down to her ass, helping her move against him. He was so close, his vision was becoming blurry.

Christine clung to Dean, afraid of moving too much, lest he slip out of her. She could tell he was close; his breathing was fast, and he grunted with every thrust. The world slipped away as he stared into her eyes, his mouth slack with desire. She knew in that moment she made the right decision. Hitting the road with the Winchesters was going to be one wild ride. "Come for me." Christine moaned, her lips hovering over his. "Dean…" She sighed.

He felt himself snap the moment she breathed his name. God damn. She was so sexy, it was sinful. He roared his completion, holding her to him as he pulsed and twitched inside her. He laid her gently down on the bed and cleaned up before pulling her to him and the covers up and and over them. "You ready for this?" Dean asked into the darkness.

Christine chuckled. "You could've asked me that _before_ you delayed my orgasm…" She pressed a kiss to his chest.

Dean chuckled, running his fingers through her hair. "Liked that did ya?" He teased.

"Eventually," She huffed. "Yeah, I'm ready." She slowly sat up, pulling on her panties and tank. She threw his boxers at him, cracking open a bottle of water. "I visited my mom." Christine murmured, offering the bottle to him as she sat back down on the bed.

Dean sat up and pulled on his boxers, taking a swig from the bottle offered to him. "How'd she take it?" He asked, knowing Mrs. Elliott would either love or hate the idea of he and Christine being together, living on the road.

"Well…" Christine started, taking a deep breath. "She didn't exactly hate the idea."

"Yeah," Dean said, brushing her hair away from her shoulder and pressing a kiss to it.

"She was lucid, for the most part." She laughed softly, then she recounted the encounter for him.

* * *

**Sioux Falls Sanitarium - Three Days Ago**

"**You're leaving." Karen Elliott said as soon as Christine walked into her room. **

"**Hello to you too, Mom." Christine greeted her, kneeling in front of the chair Karen sat it, kissing her cheek. **

"**Hi baby." Karen murmured. "You're leaving." She said again. "He's back isn't he?" She asked with a knowing smile.**

**Christine felt her cheeks flame. "Ma," She sighed. "Yes, Dean is back in my life again." **

"**You remember what I said?" Karen asked, her hands cupping Christine's face.**

"**Yeah, Ma." She nodded.**

**Karen quoted herself from many years ago, "Dean Winchester is a boy who will need a good, strong woman. He might use her up, then again, loving her might set him free. Its up to you if you want to shoulder that burden and take that chance." **

**Christine just nodded. Her mother leaned forward, kissing her forehead. Then she sat back and just looked at her for a moment.**

"**You're a young woman in love if I've ever seen one." Her mother's smile became almost manic. "You've slept with him." Christine gasped, Karen just giggled like she was her best girlfriend, "How was it?" **

"**Ma!" Christine exclaimed, her whole face turning red this time. She stood up and sat on the end of the bed, facing her mother's chair. **

"**What?" Her mother scoffed. "You're my daughter. I love you. I want to make sure you're in a satisfying relationship. No sense running off with the boy if he can't-"**

"**Dean's incredible." Christine said through her knuckles. "He's a brooding piece of work, but he's incredibly attentive and…" She trailed off, her blush deepening again.**

**Karen sighed, "Well…" She leaned forward and patted Christine on the knee. "I'm glad to hear you're being taken care of sweetie." She smiled, leaning back and closing her eyes. "Your father sure knew how to take care of a woman. Mmmm. I miss him." She opened her eyes just a crack, watching Christine squirm on the edge of the bed.**

"**I"m dissolving the band." Christine said suddenly, trying to get the topic of conversation away from her sex life. **

"**Ah." Karen mused. "That Winchester boy is so important to you, huh?" She chuckled. "That's good, really it is. Just don't let it blind you. Stay sharp. Stay true to yourself, you can't expect him to do that for you."**

"**Yes, ma." Christine sighed. It was rare occurrence, but Karen Elliott really seemed to have her wits about her today.**

"**Now," Karen sighed, "Bobby has a box of my weapons in his basement. I would like you to look through it and take what you want." Christine opened her mouth to protest. "I'm aware you've already been hunting on your own for a few years now. I just wanted to save them for a special occasion." She smiled, taking Christine's hands in her own. "I think running off with your first love to save the world one case at a time is about as special as it gets in our world, eh?" She winked. Christine giggled, pressing her knuckles to her lips, shaking her head. She glanced at the clock. **

"**Oh," She said softly. "I'm sorry, Ma. I have to go get loaded up, Bobby and I are heading out tonight." **

"**Okay, baby." Karen smiled, she looked almost wistful. Christine stood up and kissed her mother's forehead. "I love you. Stay sharp." **

**"Thanks**,** Ma. I love you too." Then she was gone.**

* * *

"Your mother sounds awesome." Dean mused, "You'll have to introduce me when we crash at Bobby's next."

Christine gulped. Introduce Dean to her mother? "Sure," She said, her voice wavering.

Dean noticed her reluctance, "You don't want me to meet her?" He asked, his voice low and soft.

"It's not that I don't want you to meet her." Christine sighed, "Sometimes she is stable and lucid. Other times she's crazier than a vengeful spirit."

"Ah," Dean said in understanding. "We'll just have to see." He kissed her hair, stretching a little, settling his body down for sleep.

"Yeah," Christine answered, feeling sleep slowly overtaking her. "Sleep well, Dean." She murmured, turning over on her side.

He followed her, spooning up against her body. "You too, baby."

It was almost like 'I love you.' Almost.

* * *

_from the author's desk…_

_Tonight - Def Leppard - I think the song fits Dean and Christine's reunion well. I also just love Def Leppard, if you haven't figured that one out yet. *wink, wink*_

_I'm curious to find out what you think of Karen Elliott, Christine's mom. I imagine her to be a lot like Ellen Harvelle, just without inhibition because she's lost her mind a little bit. I think she also understands a little more than Ellen does, that this life chooses you, you usually don't choose it yourself._

_Well, we're ready to hit the road with the Winchesters. I'm currently working on my adaptation of "No Exit" and a one shot of the latest Supernatural episode, "Angel Heart." Currently waiting on a transcript to be posted on the supernatualwiki website. Transcripts make writing fan fiction so much more enjoyable for me! I can use the actual dialog and pacing and just insert my OC. Its perfection. Please tell me you enjoyed the latest episode (Angel Heart) as much as I did. "I got it at the Hot Topical." Oh Cas. And. All. The. Feels. *sigh* Supernatural is definitely upping their game this season. I love it. _

_xoxo_

_Lumora the White_


	17. Back In Black

**Long, Long Way From Home **

_Previously__…_

"_Your mother sounds awesome.__" __Dean mused, __"__You__'__ll have to introduce me when we crash at Bobby__'__s next.__" _

_Christine gulped. Introduce Dean to her mother? __"__Sure,__" __She said, her voice wavering. _

_Dean noticed her reluctance, __"__You don__'__t want me to meet her?__" __He asked, his voice low and soft._

"_It__'__s not that I don__'__t want you to meet her.__" __Christine sighed, __"__Sometimes she is stable and lucid. Other times she__'__s crazier than a vengeful spirit.__" _

"_Ah,__" __Dean said in understanding. __"__We__'__ll just have to see.__" __He kissed her hair, stretching a little, settling his body down for sleep. _

"_Yeah,__" __Christine answered, feeling sleep slowly overtaking her. __"__Sleep well, Dean.__" __She murmured, turning over on her side. _

_He followed her, spooning up against her body. __"__You too, baby.__" _

_It was almost like __'__I love you.__' __Almost._

* * *

**Chapter 17 : Back In Black**

Dean had just finished loading their three duffel bags into the trunk of the Impala when the sound of glass breaking and shouting came from inside the Roadhouse. Curious as to what was going on, the trio headed back inside. They were supposed to go to breakfast with Jo anyway.

Ellen followed after Jo, who was holding the file from last night towards the door of the bar, "I am your mother, I don't have to be reasonable!" She shouted.

Jo whipped around, "You can't keep me here!" She shot back, chest heaving.

"Oh, don't you bet on that, sweetie." Ellen warned, pointing her finger at Jo's scowling face.

"What are you going to do, are you going to chain me up in the basement?" Jo asked, still shouting.

Ellen scoffed, "You know what, you've had worse ideas than that recently. Hey, you don't wanna stay," She threw up her hands. "Don't stay. Go back to school."

"I didn't belong there! I was a freak with a knife collection." Jo huffed. It was true. She didn't fit in there at all.

"Yeah, and getting yourself killed on some dusty back road, that's where you belong?!" Ellen exclaimed incredulously. Dean cleared his throat causing Ellen to whirl around. "Guys, bad time." She sighed.

"Yes, ma'am." Christine nodded, pushing the boys towards the door.

"Yeah, we rarely drink before ten anyway." Dean joked, flashing a grin.

"Wait!" Jo called to the retreating trio. "I wanna know what Chris thinks about this."

"Jo…" Christine sighed. She'd been over this so many times with the petite blonde, it was silly. She would give her right arm to have a mother who was lucid and stable 24/7, let alone attempted to protect her from this big bad world. Granted her mother was a cop, but apples to oranges, really.

"I don't care what she thinks!" Ellen exclaimed, "No offense of course, sweetie." She winked. Christine gave a non-offended look and waved her hands.

The phone rang. Jo glared at it, then shifted her gaze pointedly to her mother. Dean was right, sometimes Jo could really be a little school girl. Ellen moved behind the bar with a stamp of her foot.

"Harvelle's." Ellen sighed picking up the receiver. "Yeah, Preacher."

Jo approached the trio again and started in on her explanation, "Three weeks ago a young girl disappears from a Philadelphia apartment." She shoved the file folder at Dean. He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Take it, it won't bite." She insisted, eyebrows raised.

"No, but your mom might." He murmured. Christine pursed her lips, snatched the folder and opened it. Dean and Sam both peered over her shoulders.

Jo huffed and rolled her eyes. She continued to explain the contents of the file, "And this girl wasn't the first. Over the past eighty years six women have vanished. All from the same building, all young blondes. Only happens every decade or two so cops never eyeball the pattern. So we're either dealing with one very old serial killer, or —"

"You put this together?" Dean asked, remembering her saying something last night.

"Uh huh," Jo nodded, "like I said last night, I did it myself." She quipped, a proud smile cracking her lips.

"Hmm." Dean made his signature, 'I'm impressed noise.' Christine nodded, Jo did always have a knack for research and case work.

Sam finally spoke up, "I gotta admit. We've hit the road for a lot less." He shrugged, scratching the back of his neck.

"Good. You like the case so much, you take it." Ellen entered the conversation again, after hanging up with the preacher. She looked around the group, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Deal." Christine said, closing the file folder. She knew that look. Ellen Harvelle had laid down the law. There was no way Jo was going with them. So much for introducing Jo to the wonderful wide world of hunting…

"Mom!" Jo protested. "Chris!" She turned to her friend, disappointed that Christine didn't have her back with this. Christine just shook her head and closed her eyes, pinching her nose in frustration.

Ellen sighed. She was grateful to have Christine around, most of the time. Times like these, she was more grateful the girl was hitting the road and getting out of town. It might help Jo let go of the fantasy of living the hunter's life. "Joanna Beth, this family has lost enough. And I won't lose you too. I just won't." She shook her head and headed back towards the bar, discussion over.

* * *

"I feel kind of bad, snaking Jo's case." Sam sighed as they entered the latest victim's apartment. The furniture was still there, everything in its place, as if the person living there had just gone to the store.

"Yeah, maybe." Christine shrugged. She put together a good file, but could you see her out here working one of these things?"She asked. Dean pulled out his EMF meter and started scanning the room.

Dean shook his head."I don't think so." He murmured. Honestly he was a little unsure of Christine being out in the field. Granted, she didn't have a family waiting for her at home. Her mother was still alive, but it seemed she was pretty supportive of Christine living the life, and paired with being stuck in a mental institution, it made sense why Christine had gotten the experience she did. That was the biggest difference between Chris and Jo, experience.

"Everybody's rockin' the EMF, huh?" Christine teased, stepping away from the dynamic duo towards the windows, gazing out over the cityscape. Dean shot her an annoyed look. She had a strong personality alright. It was going to be interesting to see who he butted heads with more; her or Sam.

"You getting anything?" Dean asked, turning to Sam.

"No, not yet." Sam answered, running his EMF meter over a light switch. Suddenly the meter gave a little jolt, and lit up.

"What's that?" Christine said, shinning her flashlight on the switch Sam stood in front of.

"What?" Sam asked, peering closer to the switch. Black goo oozed from the roughly made light switch. "Holy crap." He sounded surprised and awestruck at the same time.

Dean reached out and touched the goo, picking some up on his fingertip.

"That's ectoplasm." Christine said, examining the black goo on Dean's fingers.

Dean smiled, "Well, Sam, I think I know what we're dealing with here." Christine groaned, rolling her eyes, catching the gleam in his eye. Dean nodded and continued, "It's the Stay-Puff Marshmallow Man.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Dean, I've only seen this stuff, like, twice." He huffed, "I mean, to make this stuff you have to be one majorly pissed off spirit."

"All right, let's find this bad ass before he snags any more girls." Christine piped up, tucking away her EMF meter and flashlight. The boys nodded and they headed back out into the hallway, towards the building's entrance. Voices alerted them to a new presence in the hallway. They flattened themselves into an alcove to wait for the right moment.

"It's so convenient." A female voice floated down the hall. Dean and Christine exchanged a look. They knew that voice. Jo wasn't still at the roadhouse.

"Dammit!" Christine exclaimed in a whisper. Dean sighed, gritting his teeth.

"Yeah, it's a great building, fixed it up real nice. All the apartments come furnished too." The landlord agreed.

"It is so spacious. You know, my friend told me I absolutely had to come check it out, and I have to admit, she was right. You did a really good job with this place." Jo gushed. The trio stepped out from the shadows. "Oh!" Jo exclaimed locking eyes with Christine. 'Here she is now." She gave her a wink.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Dean asked.

"There you are, honey." She giggled, grabbing Dean around the waist. Jo flashed a big smile at the trio of hunters, and turned back to the landlord. "This is my boyfriend Dean, his buddy Sam and his girl, Christine. She's the one who told me I just had to come check it out." Christine exchanged a look with Dean, stepping into Sam's arms, mirroring the way Jo had snuggled up to Dean.

"Good to meet 'cha" The landlord shook Dean's hand. "Quite a gal you've got here."

Dean forced a smile, "Oh yeah, she's a pistol." He said, smacking Jo's ass.

"So, did you already check out that apartment? The one for rent." She flashed a smile at Dean then the Landlord.

"Yeah. Yes. Loved it. Heh. Great flow." Dean improvised.

"How'd you get in?" The Landlord asked, confused.

"It was open." Dean answered with a shrug.

Jo took a quick breath, "Now, Ed, um, when did the last tenant move out?"

Thank God the man was distracted by a pretty smile. Christine pretty much glared daggers at her best friend. The Landlord thought, "Oh, about a month ago. Cut and run, too. Stiff'd me for the rent."

Jo's smile widened, "Well. Her loss is our gain! 'Cause if Dean-o loves it, it's good enough for me." She quipped.

"Oh, sweetie." Dean smiled tightly, smacking her again. Christine laid her head on Sam's shoulder for effect. Dean grimaced. He couldn't wait to shake Jo silly and send her home.

Pulling out a wad of cash, Jo said, "We'll take it."

* * *

Dean and Jo spread out the file on the kitchen table while Sam and Christine retrieved their bags from the Impala. "You know, you shouldn't lie to your mom. Shouldn't be here either." Dean said as Christine and Sam returned. Christine's phone was ringing as they came in the door. Unable to answer because of the drink tray of coffee and duffle bags she carried, she quickly dumped the stuff on the floor, handing the coffee off to Jo.

"Well, I am. So untwist your boxers and deal with it." Jo said annoyed that Dean still couldn't accept the fact that she was out here on a case.

"Where'd you get all that money from, anyways?" Sam asked, setting down his and Dean's duffel bags.

"Working, at the Roadhouse." Jo said proudly. She was quite the little hustler. Whether it was pool, poker or the arcade games, her pretty smile and school girl act had all the men fooled. They just ended up forking over their cash when all was said and done.

"Hunters don't tip that well." Dean scoffed. He definitely knew that one from experience.

"Dammit." Christine swore softly as she check the missed call. Ellen had just tried to call her. Dean looked over at her. She looked a bit tired from their trip, but overall she was still sexy as hell. He wondered what had her brow furrowed so intensely.

"Well, they aren't that good at poker, either." Jo quipped, taking her bag from Christine. She'd stashed it in the wheel well when she'd arrived, planning on grabbing it when they all got settled.

Suddenly Dean's phone rang. Ellen sure wasn't wasting any time. "Yeah." Dean answered, locking eyes with Christine. Christine mouthed 'Ellen' to him, while waving her phone and his breath caught. Oh Shit.

"Is she with you?" Ellen asked on the other end of the phone.

"Oh, hi Ellen." He said cheerfully, trying to sound as casual as possible.

"She left a note she's in Vegas. I don't believe it for a second." Ellen said, Dean could tell she was on to to them.

Dean covered the phone with his palm, "I'm telling her." Dean warned Jo. She immediately got in his face. They went back and forth furiously until Ellen interrupted them.

"Dean?" Ellen asked.

"Haven't seen her." Dean answered as normally as possible, still glaring furiously at Jo.

"You sure about that?" Ellen prodded.

"Yeah, I'm sure." He said still seething. Christine opened her mouth to protest, but thought better of it. Dean seemed to think they could keep Jo safe, in one piece. How hard could it be?

"Well, please. If she shows up, you'll drag her butt right back here, won't you?" Ellen sighed.

"Yes, ma'am." Dean answered, giving Christine a helpless look. It was definitely weird lying to parents. Telling Bobby about her and Dean was weird, but way better than lying and sneaking around in the long run.

"Okay. Thanks, honey." Ellen hung up.

Dean clicked his phone shut, and Jo just grinned. Christine sighed and rolled her eyes. Now they were lying to Ellen. Great, just great.

Dean paced the floor, thinking about possible scenarios to what could possibly be causing the disappearances. Christine leaned against the window sill, leafing through some land records for the surrounding area. Jo sat at the table, flipping a small knife back and forth, trying to look tough. "This place was built in 1924. It was originally a warehouse, converted into apartments a few months ago."

Dean stopped pacing for a second. "Yeah? What was here before 1924?" He asked.

"Nothing. Empty field." Christine answered, flipping over another paper, locking eyes with him. He gave her a little nod.

Sam sighed, "So, most likely scenario, someone died bloody in the building, and now he's back and raising hell."

Christine and Dean both shrugged. "Time to look at death records." The trio said in unison. Christine just smiled. She enjoyed working in tandem with the boys.

Jo scoffed, "I already checked." Dean gave her a look that said, 'do tell.' "In the past eighty two years, zero violent deaths. Unless you count a janitor who slipped on a wet floor." She looked at Dean, "Would you sit down, please?" She asked, her voice dripping with annoyance.

"So, have you checked police reports, county death records…" Dean asked, relenting to Jo's request. He sat at the table, Christine pushed off the window sill and moved to sit on the edge of the table next to him. She playfully ruffled his hair a little, earning a little grunt from him. Sam just smiled and shook his head.

Jo sighed, "Obituaries, mortuary reports and seven other sources. I know what I'm doing."

"I think the jury's still out on that one. Could you put the knife down?" Dean asked, eyeing the knife in her hand. Jo complied, trying to keep the peace. The tension was extremely high between her, Dean and Christine. She could tell the two eldest hunters didn't want her out here, and they were definitely not comfortable lying to her mother. Sam seemed a little agitated, but he had less invested.

"Okay!" Sam exclaimed. He could definitely feel the tension in the room, "So, uh, it's something else, then. Maybe some kind of cursed object that brought a spirit with it." He concluded.

"Well, we've got to scan the whole building. Everywhere we can get to, right?" Jo asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Right. So. You and me, we'll take the top two floors." Dean divided up the floors. "Sam and Christine the first and perimeter."

"We'd move faster if we split up." Jo murmured.

"Oh, this isn't negotiable." Dean said, his voice turning deadly.

* * *

They split up, but into pairs. Jo was right, they would work faster apart. However, the risk involved wasn't worth the time they'd save. Dean cornered Christine in the bedroom for a moment before they started their search. "If it hasn't hit you already, both of you are the spirit's type." He explained why he wasn't letting them split up completely. His brow furrowed with concern, he wanted her to understand he wasn't choosing Jo over her. Lying to Ellen wasn't his best idea, and if he was going to get Jo back home in one piece, he was going to have to keep a close eye on her.

"You mean, Jo. She's the spirit's type." Christine countered, "Pretty, petite, blondes." She bit her lip, gazing at the wallpaper behind Dean's head.

"Chris," Dean groaned, his eyes drifting closed. "You are both the spirit's type, ok?" He sighed, placing his hands on her shoulders. "Look, I know you don't fancy me going with Jo. I just feel-"

"Responsible." Christine finished for him, meeting his gaze again. "I get it, Dean." She sighed, "I just wish Jo would have listened to us. I got a bad feeling about her being out here like this. I mean, what was she thinking?!" Christine exclaimed in a whisper.

"Yeah, seriously, what the hell." Dean murmured, finding himself distracted by the protectiveness flashing in Christine's eyes. He cracked a smile, pulling her against him.

She cocked an eyebrow, her lips forming a shy smile. He caught her lips with his own in a fierce kiss, his tongue diving between her parted lips. She tasted of mint and chocolate, probably from the latte she had been sipping earlier. "What did I tell you about 'canning the sexual frustration while we're on a hunt', Winchester?" Christine teased when Dean released her lips.

Dean just chuckled, ruffling her hair a little. "Let's see if we can catch ourselves a spirit, eh?" He winked at her, strolling back out into the great room.

Christine heaved a sigh. At least they were being smart about their new, well, relationship, thing. It was hard to label it, whatever "it" was. As much she wanted to protect Jo, she knew Dean could handle it. Plus, it wouldn't do to give the spirit two targets at once, now would it?

* * *

"Hitting the road," Sam said with a small smile, "Any regrets?" He asked, running his EMF meter along the vent at the baseboard. The team split up into pairs, Dean and Jo on the top two floors, Chris and Sam on the first and exterior of the building.

"Nope," Christine shrugged. "I'm a little disappointed I can't do this job with my Mom, but you guys are the best in the business." She took a breath, "Hey," She turned to him, placing her hand on his forearm to draw his attention to her face, "I'm sorry about earlier." Sam raised his eyebrows. "Jo can be hard to work with, she's-"

"A little jealous you've caught my brother's eye?" Sam finished for her, leaning his tall frame against the wall.

Christine laughed, "That obvious, huh?"

"Oh yeah," Sam nodded, his smile blown wide. "You really have a knack for going with the flow. That comes in handy when we're constantly pretending to be FBI agents-"

"Friends of prospective apartment renters, the happy couple, even when I want to tear my best friend's throat out…" Christine offered with a wink. He grinned, his gaze at his feet. She shrugged her shoulders, "Yeah, Bobby always told me I was a natural when it came to acting and playing the part."

"It's great." Sam said, meeting her eyes again. "Makes Dean trust you a lot more."

"What do you mean?" Christine asked, motioning for them to continue down the hall. While it was great to talk to Sam, they still had a job to do.

"He's always been a little sexist when it comes to the job." Sam said, "Before you get mad, most women just don't have the experience it takes to be a good hunter." He took breath, "Dean's always talked about you for weeks after we visited Bobby's. Drove my Dad nuts." He sighed. "What I'm trying to say, it's great that you're here. I think we both need the support, whether we'll admit it or not." He murmured, kneeling down and inspecting a cold air return.

"Thanks Sam," Christine smiled, "I've come across many hunters who thought I was crazy for even hunting in the first place. Then we would work a case together, or they'd hear of one I'd just wrapped up and they'd come around." She held the door for him as they made their way out into the sunshine. "Now, let's see if there are any weird entrances that this freak could be using."

Sam and Christine didn't find anything odd on their sweep of the first floor and the exterior of the building. Suddenly Sam's phone rang, "Dean?" He asked into the phone. "Yeah, nothing on our end either. Let's just regroup and go back at it tomorrow." Sam pocketed his phone and held the door for Christine as they went back inside.

* * *

Christine turned over to find Dean passed out in the armchair, twisted into a pretty uncomfortable looking position. She volunteered to sleep on the floor so Sam could take the bed. Jo took the sofa, but she really didn't sleep that much. Dean wanted to her to sleep in the armchair, so they played 'rock, paper, scissors' for it.

_**Yesterday Evening **_

_**Dean shook out his shoulders, and held his right fist on his left palm, giving her a signature Winchester grin. **__**"**__**You**__**'**__**re on, babe.**__**" **_

_**Christine grinned and mirrored his stance. They slapped their fists three times and shot their choice of weapon. **__**"**__**Scissors beats paper!**__**" **__**Dean said triumphantly. Christine gave him a pouty face, her shoulders slumping forward. His smile faltered. He didn**__**'**__**t want her to be sore over losing rock, paper, scissors. **__**"**__**Best two out of three?**__**" **__**He offered. **_

_**Christine**__**'**__**s smile returned and she giggled. **__**"**__**You**__**'**__**re on, Winchester.**__**" **__**They settled into their stances again; one, two, three, shoot! **_

"_**Rock smashes scissors!**__**" **__**Christine exclaimed, playfully covering Dean**__**'**__**s scissors with her fist, then transformed it into a pistol, and quickly blew over the **__**'**__**barrel.**__**'**_

_**Dean**__**'**__**s face fell into a frown. **__**"**__**Okay, tie game. One more round, princess.**__**" **__**He grinned at her, fist resting on his palm at the ready. **_

_**Christine knew he**__**'**__**d throw scissors again. Dean was smart, but at this game he was so predictable. They counted off three times again. **__**"**__**Aww, scissors beats paper,**__**" **__**Christine whined, containing her grin behind her knuckles. **_

_**Dean threw up his arms in victory. Then realization hit him like a ton of bricks. **__**"**__**Wait,**__**" **__**He stepped toward Christine, **__**"**__**You let me win, didn**__**'**__**t you?**__**" **__**He whispered, glancing over a Jo and Sam who looked completely engrossed in the papers laid out before them. **_

"_**Now, now, Winchester. Would I do such a thing?**__**" **__**She teased, gathering up her toiletries and locking herself in the bathroom. She could hear his muttered, **__**'**__**Son of bitch.**__**' **__**through the door. She chuckled to herself and got ready for sleep.**_

* * *

Sam wandered out into the living room, and chuckled at the sight before him. Dean lay twisted in the arm chair, Christine must have slept on the floor. "And they say 'chivalry is dead," He murmured, giving Christine a sleepy smile. She stood in the kitchen, a glass of water in her hand.

"Yeah," Christine pressed her knuckles to her lips, hiding her guilty as charged smile. "Looks like it didn't help much, though." She nodded toward Dean's twisted form in the armchair.

Sam just shook his head. "You wanna go with me to get coffee?" He asked with a yawn.

Christine shrugged her shoulders, she chanced a glance at Jo. It didn't look like Jo had touched the sofa. She sat at the table, flipping her knife, studying the papers they had gathered yesterday. "Jo, you want to get out and stretch your legs?" She asked, taking a few steps toward the young woman.

Jo shook her head, "Naw, I'll keep an eye on Dean-o." She smiled, "Got a couple of things I want to double check." She held up a stack of papers, then dropped them back on the table.

"Alright, we'll be back." Christine sighed. She knew there was no point into pushing Jo out the door with Sam. She wanted to have a few moments to herself with a cup of coffee anyway.

They grabbed coffee and donuts at a little bakery just steps from the apartment building. Sam didn't say much. It was nice to spend time with him. He was quiet, but he was also extremely perceptive and observant. "I'm sorry." He murmured as they waited for their order of donuts.

Christine raised an eyebrow, "Sorry for what?"

"I should have asked Jo to come with me." Sam said, "I didn't think i just-"

"Wanted some coffee, and a little quiet." Christine finished for him, her hand resting on his shoulder, "I trust him, Sam. I wanted the quiet too." She winked, stepping forward to grab their bag of donuts. When they returned, there were cops outside the building.

"Where's the coffee?" Dean asked when Sam entered the apartment.

"Right here, Winchester." Christine announced, popping out from behind Sam.

"There are cops outside. Another girl disappeared." Sam informed Dean and Jo, taking a sip from his cup.

Jo and Sam stayed behind while Christine and Dean checked out the latest victim's apartment. They returned to find the younger hunters elbow deep in papers. "Teresa Ellis, Apartment 2F. Boyfriend reported her missing around dawn." Dean explained closing the door.

Jo looked up from her stack of papers, "And her apartment?" She cocked an eyebrow.

"Cracks all over the plaster, walls, ceiling. There was ectoplasm, too." Christine continued, perching on the end of the table nearest Jo.

"Well, between that and that tuft of hair I'd say this sucker's coming from the walls." Sam concluded. They all took a collective breath.

"But who is it? Building's history is totally clean." Dean stood next to where Jo was seated. Christine stood a little behind him, staring out the window.

"Well, maybe we're looking in the wrong place." Jo said, picking up an old photograph.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, placing his arm around Christine, drawing her into their little pow-wow around the table.

"Check this out." Jo said, handing Christine the photograph. Dean examined it with her.

"An empty field?" Christine asked, passing it off to Sam.

"It's where this building was built. Take a look at the one next door. The windows." Jo insisted.

Sam pointed to the photo again, "Bars."

"We're next door to a prison?" Dean asked incredulously.

"Looks that way, sugar." Christine said with a wink.

* * *

"Thanks, Ash." Jo said into her cell phone, "And if you breathe a word of this to my mom... That's right. I will. With pliers." She hung up. Dean shuddered, pliers?. "Okay." She cleared her throat, turning to the gathered hunters. "Moyamensing prison. Built in 1835, torn down in 1963. And get this. They used to execute people by hanging them in the empty field next door.

"Well, then, we need a list of all the people executed there." Christine concluded, the boys nodded their agreeance.

"Ash is already on it." Jo said with a smile.

Ash came through an hour later. His list proved to be extremely fruitful. They discovered the real name of notorious serial killer, H. H. Holmes. He was the nation's first serial killer. He built a murder castle that he'd lure victims into. They'd fall through trap doors into vats of wax or acid. Sometimes they'd be held within the walls for days on end, just waiting in terror for their demise."

The group split up again into their respective pairings, Dean with Jo and Sam with Christine. Sam and Christine didn't have any luck on finding the women in the walls.

Dean let Jo go off by herself to squeeze deeper into walls, and the spirit snatched her away. He looked really shaken when Ellen called and demanded to speak to Jo, but he was unable to put her on the phone. Ellen proceeded to tear him a new one, then announce she'd be on the next flight out.

"Not the first time she's heard that from a Winchester?" Dean muttered after they'd regrouped around the table. They were pouring over the files Ash had sent over.

"Ellen say that?" Christine asked looking up from a file she closed.

Dean nodded, "Yeah." He murmured, locking eyes with her.

Christine shrugged her shoulders, letting her eyes go wide for a moment before returning her gaze to the computer. She knew what happened between John Winchester and Bill Harvelle. Bobby explained it as an unfortunate 'hunting accident' when she was younger. In recent years, she'd learned what that really meant. No wonder Ellen had looked so spooked when she first showed up at the Roadhouse with Sam and Dean. Especially Dean, he looked so much like John, it was scary.

"So, get this," Sam said as he stood up and spread the city's sewer plans for their immediate area out between the two hunters. "The sewer system runs right below this building. There's an extra large holding area that is no longer in service right beneath us."

"How do we get in?" Christine asked, tracing her finger along the pipelines.

"Yahtzee," Dean said, pointing to a street level entrance, right where the prison used to be.

* * *

After climbing down the manhole ladder into the sewer system, Christine pushed past Sam and Dean when she heard Jo calling for help. "This way!" She cried, taking a hard left that led into the large chamber at the center of the apartment building. "Jo?" She called, stepping into the cavernous room.

"Chris!" Jo called back in a hoarse voice. Christine ran to where the sound came from. The walls were lined with what looked like autopsy drawers or catacomb vaults. Each one had a lock on it. Christine crouched down peered through the slit on the front of the vault.

"Hey, sugar," She murmured gently. Jo looked terrified, she was shaking and clutching her father's knife. "Let's see about getting you outta there, okay?" She turned to find Dean crouched down next to her, picking the lock. She placed a hand on his shoulder and stood up. Sam was across the room picking another lock. Teresa.

The two men pulled the women from their coffin-like confinements. Christine received Jo with open arms and helped her to sit down on the steps leading into the cavern.

"Alright," Dean said, "Let's get Teresa out of here."Sam escorted Teresa out and helped her get to the surface. Dean turned to where the girls were sitting. "You okay?" He asked, popping a squat in front of the blondes.

"Yeah," Jo sniffled. "Thanks." She brushed the back of her hand over her eyes to hide her tears.

"Great," Dean sighed. "Let's get this plan in motion."

"Plan?" Jo asked, she took a small sip from the water bottle Dean offered her, "Thanks." She said with a smile. He nodded, giving his attention back to Chris.

Christine sighed, "I'm going to stay here, draw Holmes back here while ya'll set the trap."

"Trap?" Jo asked, her voice waivered with worry.

Dean held up a bag of rock salt, then knocked on the metal walls. "Solid iron." He smirked.

"Huh," Jo smiled back, "Gotta love the olden days."

"Yeah," Christine said, getting to her feet. "Let's get the salt lines laid and you two scram so Mr. Murder Castle comes back for his prize."

Jo gave a small nod and tentative smile, then grabbed a bucket Dean scooped some salt into. The trio set to work, Sam returned as soon as they had laid salt all the way around the room, save for the entrance.

"Hey," Sam said, "Looks good." He surveyed the area with a smile.

'Yeah she does,' Dean thought watching Christine bend over to pick up the bag of salt they were leaving her with so she could seal off the room. She straightened up and found him staring. Her blush caused him to come to his senses. "Uh," Dean started, "Yeah. Let's scram."

Christine just shook her head. Dean had been watching her while they went about putting out the salt to trap Holmes. It seemed like he was glad they didn't have to use Jo as bait, but it was also hard to let Christine be it instead. "I'll be fine, Winchester." Christine assure him as they finished up. "You'll just swoop in and save me if something goes wrong anyway." She winked. He had just grunted and given her a signature, 'Wouldn't be so sure 'bout that,' Winchester smile.

The three hunters hid up the ladder towards the surface, Dean held onto the rope that released the door that sealed off the chamber. Christine poked her head up through the doorway into the tunnel, "Careful with that Winchester," She gave him a wink, then slapped the door twice and disappeared back into the room.

* * *

All was quiet for the next few moments when suddenly Christine shouted, "Come and get me, you asshat!" Her volume made all three hunters jump. "Come on, Holmes. I know you want me!" Suddenly the ghost of H. H. Holmes appeared before her, between her and the doorway. Shit. "Alright, looks like you've got game, not bad." She said, loud enough for the hunters to hear.

Oh no. "He's between her and the doorway." Dean said, "Son of a bitch!" He swore, barely stopping himself from pounding his fist into

She moved a little, trying to draw the ghost away from the doorway. He followed her, smiling cruelly. "You like the chase," She smiled back. "never would'a guessed." She kept moving along the wall, towards the door, "That's it, you son of a bitch." She muttered as Holmes continued to circle her like a predator did it's prey.

"Any last words?" She called, hoping Dean would catch her meaning.

"You got this, Chris!" He called to her. The new voice caused Holmes to take his eyes off her just long enough for her to reach the doorway. She knelt down and covered the threshold with the rest of the rock salt, stepping back into the sewer tunnel, out of the chamber.

Holmes let loose a soul shattering scream. It seemed as if the seal worked. Christine laughed with relief. Holmes continued to shriek with terror and writhe with pain. "Scream all you want, you asshat, but there's no way you're stepping over that salt!" She shouted. Dean let go of the rope and a grate slammed shut with an ominous sound, sealing off the room.

* * *

"So? This job as glamorous as you thought it would be?" Sam asked Jo as they stood next to the sewer entrance, back in the light of day.

Jo smirked, "Well, except for all the pee-your-pants terror, yeah. Sure." Then her smile grew wider, "But that Teresa girl's gonna live a life because of us. It's worth it, isn't it?" She cocked her head to the side a little, stuffing her hands in her pockets.

"Yeah. Yeah it is." Sam nodded.

Jo thought for a moment then burst out, "Hey, what if somebody finds that sewer down there, or a storm washes the salt away?"

Sam chuckled, "Both very fine points. Which is why we're waiting here."

"For what?" Jo asked, scrunching her nose.

Sam smiled and looked over his shoulder. A cement mixer backed into the field, stopping just over the sewer entrance. Dean waved out the driver's window.

"For that." Sam explained, waving at Dean to stop the struck. "Whoa!"

Dean hopped down from the cab, and extended his hand for Christine as she jumped down as well.

"You ripped off a cement truck?" Jo asked incredulously.

Dean smirked, "I'll give it back." They all watched the cement pour down the hole.

"Well, that oughta keep him down there till hell freezes over." Jo mused.

Christine sighed, "God, I love this job." She leaned into Dean's side and wrapped his arm around her.

* * *

The journey back to the roadhouse was extremely tense. No one hardly said a word as all five, yes five, piled into the Impala and drove through the night. The arrived at the Roadhouse midday.

"Ellen? This is my fault. Okay? I lied to you and I'm sorry." Dean spoke up first. "But Jo did good out there, I think her dad would be proud." Christine flinched, she wasn't sure how Ellen would react to Dean saying that

"Don't you dare say that. Not you." Ellen lamented, "I need a moment with my daughter. Alone."

Christine spun on her heel and led the way out of the roadhouse into the blinding sunshine.

She settled on Baby's left rear wheel well, "Balls!" She swore.

"What?" Dean asked, settling beside her.

Christine just shook her head, "You'll see Winchester." She sighed, "You'll see." A few minutes later, Jo stormed out of the Roadhouse and shot Dean a dirty look. "Here we go." Christine muttered as Dean pushed off the Impala and followed Jo.

Sam leaned over towards Christine, "Hey, is this about how her Dad got killed?" He asked.

Christine gave a grim chuckle, "You always were the observant one Sammy."

Dean returned to the Impala and wrenched open the door. "Let's go."

Christine pushed off the Impala and jogged over to her friend. "Hey, sugar." She said softly. "I better get going."

Jo whirled around and snarled in her face, "You knew!" She shouted, "After everything we've been through." She sighed, "How could you just…" She trailed off, burying her face in her hands.

"Jo…" Christine soothed, stepping forward and wrapping her up in her arms, "You know Bobby can't keep a secret, not from me anyways." She chuckled a little, "What difference did it make, Jo?" She asked, "Your Dad, my Dad, they were both gone. Dead. Nothing can bring them back." She sighed, "I guess I just wanted you to think of your Dad like I thought of mine-"

"Like a hero." Jo finished for her, pulling back a little. "I know," She heaved a heavy sigh. "I guess I never thought about the trust that comes with this job." She murmured.

Christine nodded. "Yeah, reality sucks." She giggled, kicking the dirt a little.

Dean was growing impatient. He honked the Impala's horn and revved the engine.

"Gotta go, sugar." Christine shrugged, "I'll see you around, Jo." Christine play punched her in the shoulder, then turned around and headed back to the Impala.

"Chris!" Jo shouted, causing Christine to turn around, "You ever get tired of riding around with those two lunatics, you know where to find me."

Christine smiled, "Sure thing, sugar." Then she climbed into the back of Impala and they sped off down the highway.

Dean locked eyes with her in the rearview mirror for a few seconds. "You better tell me now if there is anything else you're keeping from me." He warned, gaze flicking back to the road.

Christine thought for a moment. She sighed, leaning back against the door, propping her feet up on the backseat. "My father worked with your father once, just after Bill Harvelle died." She took a deep breath, it was now or never. "It was a case in Wyoming, some sort of creature was attacking the locals." She shifted a little. "Your dad insisted upon using the most recent victim's family-"

Dean took in a sharp breath, "My Dad would have never-"

"So Bill Harvelle doesn't count?" Christine cut in. Dean clenched his jaw. "You asked, Winchester." He smacked the steering wheel in frustration. "As I was saying, your Dad wanted to use the family as bait. My dad wouldn't hear of it. He tracked the vampire nest on his own, pretty similar to how we did when we ran into Gordon."

"Wait, so tracking vamps," Sam cut in, "Dad learned that from your Dad?"

Christine sighed, "Yes." She sat up a little, "My Dad kept in contact with John after that, giving him advice, doing research, but he never did work the same case again." She leaned forward resting her arms on the front bench seat between the brothers. "I watched the two of you work that Rakshasa case in Wisconsin, trying to decide if I wanted to risk join you on the road."

The boys were silent for a moment, letting her confession sink in. "What made you decide to join us, Christine?" Sam asked, turning to rest his back against the passenger door.

"Well," Christine mused, "You mean besides your older brother's dangerously good looks?" She teased, ruffling Dean's hair. "You always have each other's backs." She sighed, "Some may call it crazy, I call it love. I know, I know, that's really mushy of me, but its neat to see you stick together and really be a family. I wanted to be apart of it."

Dean locked eyes again with her in the rearview mirror, took her hand in his and brought it to his lips. "I'm glad you're here, Chris." He murmured, letting go of her hand.

"Thanks, Winchester." Christine smiled, settling back in her seat, "I'm glad, too."

* * *

_From the author__'__s desk__…_

_**Back In Black - AC/DC -** gotta love this vocal, raw, unyielding, and I simply love the guitar riff on this track, it just oozes cool. I see the trio of Sam, Dean and Christine as the cool kids all of us wanted to run with in school. So, a little AC/DC for the road._

_Some of you may know, my mother passed away this September. She lost her battle with juvenile diabetes. I__'__ve been writing a little here and there, therapy really. I__'__ve finally gotten back on the wagon of finishing Long, Long, Way From Home. I think I__'__ll go through Season 2 and see where that gets us. _

_until next time._

_xoxo_

_Lumora The White_


	18. The Great Escape

**Long, Long Way From Home**

_Previously…_

_The boys were silent for a moment, letting her confession sink in. "What made you decide to join us, Christine?" Sam asked, turning to rest his back against the passenger door. _

"_Well," Christine mused, "You mean besides your older brother's dangerously good looks?" She teased, ruffling Dean's hair. "You always have each other's backs." She sighed, "Some may call it crazy, I call it love. I know, I know, that's really mushy of me, but it's neat to see you stick together and really be a family. I wanted to be apart of it." _

_Dean locked eyes again with her in the rearview mirror, took her hand in his and brought it to his lips. "I'm glad you're here, Chris." He murmured, letting go of her hand. _

"_Thanks, Winchester." Christine smiled, settling back in her seat, "I'm glad, too."_

* * *

**Chapter 18 : The Great Escape**

**The Usual Suspects**

For once in her life, Christine Elliott was glad she was fighting with Dean Winchester. She found a phone number paired with a lipstick smudge on a crumpled napkin in his jeans pocket that morning as she was getting a load of laundry together. When she asked him about it, he made it a joke.

'_What, it's not like we're exclusive, Chris. A hunter's gotta live while he can._ _Besides, why were you snooping in my pockets? _

He even had the audacity to wink. Sigh. She knew he was being sarcastic, but it still stung. She'd stormed off to grab a cup of coffee to clear her head and meet Sam back at the motel after dropping Dean off at Karen's. While she stood in line, she watched Dean's picture appear on the television screen. Suddenly He was the prime suspect in custody for the now double homicide. Sam must be at the station as well, their hotel room was crawling with cops. Thank God she'd taken Baby, they would have been in deep shit if the cops seized the car. Not only was the glove box full of fake ids and badges, the arsenal in the truck would definitely seal their fate. After a quick wardrobe change, she entered the precinct as an FBI agent looking to aid in the brutal, possible serial killer case.

"Agent Ellis," Christine flashed her badge at the officer on duty, "FBI."

"I'll take you to Detective Sheridan, he's lead on the case." The officer nodded and led her back to interrogation. They knew who she was here to see. It wasn't too often you get a case high profile enough to bring in the big boys. Dean sat cuffed to the table, while a detective interrogated him. After sending Bobby a quick text, asking him to call her in five minutes, She watched the detective get up in Dean's face. The detective slammed his fist down on the table, then turned and wrenched open the door, slamming it shut behind him.

"Detective Sheridan," Christine flashed her badge for propriety's sake. "Agent Ellis, FBI" She smirked as she caught his eyes rake over her appreciatively. All her time on the yoga mat and dance floor definitely paid off in instances like this.

"Well," Detective Sheridan scoffed, "They really grow 'em beautiful in DC." He flashed her a "wanna be" Winchester grin. She extended her hand, which he took eagerly.

"Play your cards right, and you can see just how beautiful it is," Christine let her voice drop a little, "up close and personal." She winked, letting her lips form a seductive smile.

Detective Sheridan's eyes dilated a little, "I'll hold you to that, Special Agent Ellis." He said her name with a flourish. He looked around, "Where's your partner?"

"Flying solo." Christine sighed dramatically, "Doing a bit of recon really. Boss didn't think he needed two agents here, your department is pretty capable." She winked, "So, I'm just passing through, making sure all the loose ends get tied up on this character," She motioned to the glass, "Uh, Dean, um-"

"Winchester." Detective Sheridan finished for her, handing her Dean's file. She flipped it open. "He's a character all right." He flashed her another grin. A woman approached the pair.

"Hey Pete," She said softly. She turned to Christine, offering her hand, "Detective Ballard."

Christine smiled, "Agent Ellis, FBI." She shook Detective Ballard's hand, then handed her the file. "You interrogated the brother, uh, S-" She played dumb again.

"Yeah, Sam." Detective Ballard filled in, she sighed, "He's a nice kid. Such a shame he's got Dean for a brother."

"Bastard." Detective Sheridan murmured.

"Yeah," Christine agreed, "And let me guess, stories match?" She asked.

Detective Ballard seemed a little taken aback, "Yeah, down to the last detail."

Christine could tell Detective Ballard wanted to say more, but she was unsure of how to go about it. Pete seemed pretty convinced Dean was their guy and he wasn't really interested in hashing out the details; insert gigantic red flag here. "Well, why don't I get them to run their stories one more time, eh?" She gave Detective Sheridan another flirty wink. Suddenly her phone vibrated. "Excuse me," She gave Detective Ballard a nod. "Ellis," She answered. "Sure Boss." She plugged her ear and disappeared around the corner to give the detectives some space.

"You on a case, kid?" Bobby asked. He sat at his kitchen table, he'd gotten her text about calling in five minutes.

"Looks like the locals have the double homicide pegged on a Dean Winchester." Christine answered, trying to hear what was going on between the two detectives, they had moved to an alcove across from where she had leaned against a window sill. She could see their reflection in the glass.

"Dean's in jail?!" Bobby exclaimed, almost spitting out the swig of whiskey he'd taken. "Do you need me to call in an extradition?"

Christine shook her head, "No, I've got a couple more leads I need to check. Seems that they're trying to get the brother to flip on him." She was also trying to contain her panic, Detective Sheridan seemed over confident of Dean's guilt. There was definitely more than met the eye about Detective Sheridan, she was going to have to stick around and find out.

"Balls!" Bobby exclaimed. Dean's arrest record wasn't squeaky clean, they were definitely able to hold him for awhile.

"Yeah, I hear ya." She chuckled, turning to face away from the window. "Well, just wanted to give you a progress report, Boss." She was speaking in choppy sentences, trying to figure out what the detectives were being so hush hush about.

"You're eavesdropping, aren't ya?" Bobby asked. "That's my girl." He grinned.

"Yes sir," She looked at the floor, then through her lashes at the detectives. Pete stepped forward and invaded Diana's space. She didn't back away. "Thank you." Then she hung up. Just as detective Sheridan was leaning in to kiss Detective Ballard, Christine burst back into the hallway. "Sorry about that!" She exclaimed, pocketing her phone. Then she looked a little sheepish. "Oh geez, me and my big mouth." She lamented, "Tell you what, I'll go see the Winchesters while you two do your thing." She chuckled, "Have fun." She winked, then continued on to the interrogation room.

* * *

Dean Winchester looked up from the piece of paper he'd scribbled on. Christine Elliott entered the room and shut the door behind her, leaning against it for a moment. "Dean Winchester," She flashed her badge, again for propriety's sake. "Agent Ellis-"

"F-B-I," Dean cut in with a flashy smile, "Wow, they really mean business don't they." He leaned back in his chair.

"Just dotting the "I"s and crossing the 'T's." Christine pocketed her badge and leaned over the table a little. "Care to recount the story, one more time, just for Uncle Sam?"

Dean smirked, "Actually I'd like to confess." He expected Christine to show up, not insert herself directly into the investigation. She did look hot as hell as an FBI agent. She was all business, but her general badass persona simmered just below her cool exterior.

Christine's face faltered, good thing she was facing away from the observation window. "You're a real wise guy, I'll give you that." Christine laughed. "Alright, fine. You can confess."

"Now, I strongly advised against that, remember Mr. Winchester?" The public defender burst back into the room. "Could you give us the room agent?" He looked nervous at her mere presence.

"Actually, she can stay," Dean quipped with a grin. He stood up, "You can wait outside until the Paparazzi show up, eh?" He pointed the attorney, "You want to help me, take this to my brother Sam." He threw Christine a wink while he handed the man a folded piece of paper.

The counselor blinked, he seemed unsure what to do with Dean's flippant attitude. He reluctantly took the piece of paper. "Uh, sure. Whatever you want Mr. Winchester." He turned and yanked open the door. Christine heard him mutter, "Crazy bastard," just before the door clicked shut.

"I'm afraid your attorney is right." Christine scoffed, picking up the sheet of paper Dean had scribbled on. She faced away from the observation glass. "Ashland?" She slid the pad of paper back across the table.

Dean smirked, "It's a street name, figure it's a good place to start." Dean explained. "Sent a message to Hilts about it."

"Okay, channeling your inner McQueen are we?" She murmured, trying to confirm what Dean had done.

He leaned back in his chair and smirked a little, "Throw it away, forget yesterday…"He said in a sing song voice, humming the rest.

"Classic." Christine scoffed. Dean sang the first line of the chorus of Boys Like Girls', '_The Great Escape.'_

* * *

**Earlier that week**

"_**Throw it away, forget yesterday, we'll make the great escape!" Christine sang as she unloaded a load of laundry from the washer. She had been bouncing around Bobby's house all morning, doing dishes, sorting laundry, getting the crew ready for when the next hunt arose. **_

"_**What is that?" Dean asked, pointing to his ear, indicating what she was listening to.**_

"_**Boys like girls." Christine answered with a shrug. **_

"_**Well, duh, everyone knows that." Dean scoffed, "But, what are you listening to?"**_

"_**Boys like girls." Christine answered again, this time she showed him the screen of her iPod. He still looked confused. She rolled her eyes and plucked an earbud from her ear and inserted it into his. His eyebrows shot clear up to his hairline. **_

_**Throw it away, forget yesterday**_

_**we'll make the great escape**_

_**We won't hear a word they say**_

_**They don't know us anyway**_

_**Watch it burn**_

_**Let it die**_

'_**cause we are finally free tonight**_

_**Dean's eyes widened, then his mouth dropped open a little. Suddenly he shook his head and wrenched the earbud from his ear. "Nope, nope, nope." He exclaimed, palming his jaw. Christine just threw her head back and laughed. "This is what you've been listening to all day?" He asked, pinning her against the washing machine. Christine nodded, biting her lip. She slipped the earbud back into her ear and grinned cheekily up at him. Dean growled in frustration. Well that explained why she was literally 'bouncing' around Bobby's house. "It's so syrupy I could puke. Yuck!" **_

"_**Awww. C'mon, it's not that bad…" She protested, her eyes sparkling with mirth. He'd let her go back to work, but not until he'd changed the album on her iPod to Bad Company - 'Bad Company.' **_

_**The next day she found Dean humming the song while he gave Baby a bath just outside the garage.**_

"_**Woah, wait a minute!" Christine exclaimed. "You're totally singing it!" She jumped up and down a little, "You're so busted!" **_

_**Dean's cheeks turned a little pink, "It's catchy, alright?" He scoffed, grunting with the effort of emptying the wash bucket. "It's your fault, if you hadn't let me listen to it, it wouldn't be stuck in my head." **_

"_**Awww, c'mon." She put her hands on her hips, "You liked it." **_

_**Dean scoffed, wiping his hands on his jeans, "The only thing I liked was watching you bounce around the house, shaking that fine ass of yours." He grinned. **_

"_**Dean!" Christine exclaimed, hand flying to her mouth to hide her smile. "You can't just say stuff like that." **_

"_**Why not?" He protested, pulling her into his arms, resting against Baby's trunk. "You're my girl, I can appreciate how fine your ass is every now and again, can't I?" He grinned that infamous 'shit eating grin.' **_

_**Christine play punched him in the shoulder, "As long as I get to return the favor, Winchester." She winked.**_

* * *

Detectives Ballard and Sheridan entered the room, Pete carried a video camera and tripod. "Heard you want to make a formal confession." He said smugly, setting the tripod and camera directly in front of Dean. "Talk directly into the camera, first stating your name for the record."

Christine hovered in the background, watching Dean work the plan. Dean cleared his throat, leaned forward and looked directly into the camera. "My name is Dean Winchester. I'm an Aquarius. I enjoy sunsets, long walks on the beach, and frisky women." He paused, flicking his eyes up to Christine's face. She was looking at him, her expression carefully cool and distant, but her eyes burned brightly. "And I did not kill anyone, but I know who did, or rather, what did. Of course I can't be for sure, because our investigation was interrupted, but our working theory was that we're looking for some kind of vengeful spirit."

The more Dean talked, the hotter Pete got under the collar. Here he thought he was getting a confession to close the case, instead he was getting Winchestered.

Detective Ballard spoke up first, "Excuse me?"

"You know, Casper the blood-thirsty ghost?" Dean offered with a cocky smirk. He took a breath and leaned back in his chair, "Tony Giles saw it. I'll bet you cash money Karen did too. But see, the interesting thing is the word it leaves behind. For some reason, it's trying to tell us something. But communicating across the vale, well, it ain't easy. You know, sometimes the spirits, they get things jumbled. You remember "REDRUM". Same concept. You know it's, uh, maybe word fragments...other times it's anagrams. See, at first we thought this was a name, Dana Shulps. But now we think it's a street. Ashland. Whatever's going on, I'll bet you it started there." Dean spread his hands and smiled.

"You arrogant bastard." Detective Sheridan growled, "Tony and Karen were good people, and you're making jokes."

Dean shook his head, "I'm not joking, ponch."

Detective Sheridan's voice rose, "You murdered them in cold blood, just like that girl in St. Lois."

"Oh yeah." Dean sighed, "That wasn't me either. That was a shape-shifter creature that only looked like me." He smiled at the camera. Christine hid her smile behind her hand, choking her chuckle into a cough.

Detective Sheridan wasn't going to take anymore of Dean's smart ass remarks. He launched forward, hauling Dean up by his collar and shoving him hard against the wall.

"Pete!" Detective Ballard shouted at the same time Christine shouted, "Detective!" They both said, "That's enough!"

"You asked for the truth," Dean choked out, giving Christine a wink. How many times had they just wanted to come out and lay it all on the table for someone. Too many to count, really. The irony nearly made Christine laugh.

Detective Sheridan relented. He released Dean, "Lock his ass up!" He shouted. An officer came forward and cuffed Dean's hands behind his back.

* * *

Christine followed the Detectives back out into the hall. "You believe that whack job?" Pete asked, catching Christine looking at Dean as he passed.

"I've definitely heard stranger confessions," Christine shrugged, "maybe he's delusional." She sighed, "Let's go talk to the brother." She suggested, motioning for Pete and Diana to take the lead.

The detectives nodded. When they reached Sam's interrogation room, it was empty, save for the coffee and note sitting on the table top. "What the hell?" Sheridan exclaimed, "Where is he?" He scoffed and went over to the open window. It was probably at least four stories down, and with no visible fire escape, it pretty much looked like Sam disappeared into thin air.

Christine picked up the note, read it and scoffed. "These two guys," She sighed handing Ballard the note. She read it and passed it to Pete. Suddenly her phone buzzed. "Ellis." She answered. It was Sam.

"Hilts and McQueen?" Pete scoffed, his eyebrows drawing together.

Christine ended the call quickly with a simple, "I'm on it." At least Sam was safe.

Diana suppressed her smile of approval, "Hilts is Steve McQueen's character in-"

"The Great Escape." Christine concluded.

* * *

_From the author's desk…_

_**The Great Escape - Boys Like Girls** \- okay, you can be mad, we did deviate from the traditional Rock n' Roll here. The song just works so well, and I think it would be incredibly hilarious to catch Dean humming the tune...LOL._

_My only issue with the original episode was the confiscation of Baby. I know its a television show, so there's "magic" involved, but I was surprised we didn't hear about the fake IDs and the arsenal in the trunk. That's why I have Christine in possession of Baby so my brain is happy. End side note. _

_I'm debating whether to have Christine disappear and resume investigating with Sam, or have her stick with Diana as she encounters Claire...we'll see what the muse decides. Until next time…_

_xoxo_

_Lumora The White_


	19. Vertigo

**Long, Long Way From Home**

_Previously…_

_Christine followed the Detectives back out into the hall. "You believe that whack job?" Pete asked, catching Christine looking at Dean as he passed. _

"_I've definitely heard stranger confessions," Christine shrugged, "maybe he's delusional." She sighed, "Let's go talk to the brother." She suggested, motioning for Pete and Diana to take the lead. _

_The detectives nodded. When they reached Sam's interrogation room, it was empty, save for the coffee and note sitting on the table top. "What the hell?" Sheridan exclaimed, "Where is he?" He scoffed and went over to the open window. It was probably at least four stories down, and with no visible fire escape, it pretty much looked like Sam disappeared into thin air. _

_Christine picked up the note, read it and scoffed. "These two guys," She sighed handing Ballard the note. She read it and passed it to Pete. Suddenly her phone buzzed. "Ellis." She answered. It was Sam. _

"_Hilts and McQueen?" Pete scoffed, his eyebrows drawing together._

_Christine ended the call quickly with a simple, "I'm on it." At least Sam was safe. _

_Diana suppressed her smile of approval, "Hilts is Steve McQueen's character in-"_

"_The Great Escape." Christine concluded._

* * *

**Chapter 19: Vertigo**

"I'll be right back," Diana murmured to Pete, heading for the ladies' room. Christine had just finished washing her hands when Detective Ballard entered the restroom. The overhead lights flickered and a chill ran down Christine's spine. Diana shook it off with a sigh and headed for the sink to splash some water on her face. As she reached for the faucet, all of the handles turned of their own accord. Diana pulled her hand back as steam fogged up the mirrors. Invisible fingers scrawled the anagram, "DANASHULPS" on the glass. Diana reached up and wiped the word away, revealing a terrifying sight behind her. Christine watched at first with interest as the young girl struggled to speak, then she realized the ghost wasn't trying to harm them, she was trying to say something. The deep laceration on her throat oozed blood as she struggled to form coherent words. Suddenly Christine came to her senses and grabbed Detective Ballard by the arm and dragged her from the lavatory.

Christine pour Detective Ballard a cup of coffee and pushed it into her shaky hands. "Hey," She said softly, "Unfortunately, this isn't my first rodeo with the supernatural. Let's take another crack at Dean. See what he's got to say about all this, eh?" Diana just nodded. Christine sighed. She still had to play the part of the seasoned 'FBI agent.' No use giving up the ruse just yet.

* * *

"Back so soon, agent?" Dean quipped as Christine entered the room.

"Just here for support." Christine winked, stepping aside so Detective Ballard could enter the room. She closed the door and leaned against it.

Dean sighed and sat back in his chair, "Can we make this quick? I'm a little tired, and it's been a long day, with your partner assaulting me and all…"

Detective Ballard looked nervous. Christine steered them straight here, she hardly gave Diana a minute to compose herself before opening the interrogation room door. "I-I want to know more about that stuff you were talking about earlier." She explained, crossing her arms as if she could still feel the chill that filled the bathroom when the ghost appeared.

Dean studied her for a moment then leaned forward, "Time Life. Mysteries of the Unknown. Look it up." He tried to look disinterested, aloof. Christine moved to sit on the table top. Detective Ballard looked like she was ready to pounce. Christine put up her hand to stop her, "Let's pretend for a moment," She turned to Dean, "that you're not entirely insane."

"Mmmm." Dean mused, watching her work the room.

"What would one of these things be doing here?" Diana asked, leaning over the table top a little.

"A vengeful spirit?" Dean asked, earning a nod from both women, "Well, they're created by violent deaths." He surveyed their reaction, Christine feigned new found understanding while Detective Ballard looked completely spooked. "And they come back for a reason, usually a nasty one. Like revenge on the people who hurt 'em."

"And uh," Christine started to say, while Diana rubbed absently at her neck, "These, they're capable of killing people?" She asked, rolling up her sleeve to reveal bruises just like the ones wrapped around Detective Ballard's wrists.

"Where did you get that?" Dean asked eye up Diana's wrists. Then he reached out taking a hold of Christine's wrist seeing the same bruising, "You too?" He murmured.

Diana looked shaken, "I don't know. It, it wasn't there before…" She trailed off, seeing the same bruises around Christine's wrists.

"You've seen it, haven't you?" Dean demanded, "The spirit?"

"How did you know?" Christine asked, taking her arm back, covering her wrist again with her sleeve.

"Because Karen had the same bruises on her wrists. And I'm willing to bet that if you look at Giles' autopsy photos he's got 'em too." He sighed, "It's got something to do with this spirit, I...I don't know what." Detective Ballard turned and faced the window. Christine stood up and put a hand on her shoulder. "I know. You think you're going crazy. But let's skip that part, shall we? Because the last two people who saw this thing? Died, pretty soon after. You hear me?" Dean's voice rose, he wanted to make sure Diana understood the gravity of the situation.

"You think we're going to die." Detective Ballard said matter of factly, turning around to face Dean again. She nodded at Christine who showed her wrist to confirm she bore the marks too.

"You need to go to Sam. He'll help." Dean urged.

"You're giving your brother up?" Christine asked. She exchanged a carefully crafted look with Diana.

Dean sighed. Damn, Christine was good. She was ensuring Diana followed along with their little song and dance long enough to take care of the spirit and get Dean out of jail. If they could save the detective's life maybe she could get the charges dropped. Dean let out the breath he'd been holding, "Go to the first motel listed in the yellow pages. Look for Jim Rockford-it's how we find each other when we're separated." He sighed locking eyes with the Detective, "Now you can arrest him if you want," He looked at Christine, "Or you can let him save your life."

* * *

Diana didn't take much convincing once they found Sam. Christine took the opportunity to change her costume. "How'd you get those?" Detective Ballard demanded, "Those are from crime scenes, and booking photos!"

Sam sighed, "You have your job, I have mine." He handed Diana the files, "Here. I need you to look through these, tell me if you recognize anyone."

Christine emerged from the bathroom, dressed in her usual hunter garb, power suit packed carefully away agian. "You're not FBI, are you?" Diana asked, sitting on the bed.

Christine shook her head, "Nope," She chuckled. Cracking open a beer, she took a swig, "You could say Dean, Sammy and I are more like X Files than your typical law enforcement." She extended her hand, "Christine Elliott."

Detective Ballard just nodded, and re-shook her hand. Then she sighed and flipped through the stack, stopping on the third photo. She turned it for Christine to see. "This is her. I'm sure of it." Then she showed Sam.

Christine nodded, "Definitely our ghost girl."

Sam shuffled through a few papers, "Uh, Claire Becker." He found the mystery girl's name. "Twenty eight years old, disappeared about eight or nine months ago."

"But I don't even know her." Detective Ballard protested, "I mean, why would she come after me?"

Christine looked over Sam's shoulder, "Says here she was arrested twice, for dealing heroin." She locked eyes with Diana, "You ever narcotics?"

Detective Ballard took a deep breath, "Yeah, Pete and I did, before homicide."

"You ever bust her?" Sam asked, turning another page, looking for a more in depth arrest record.

"Not that I remember." Detective Ballard shook her head and handed the photos to Christine.

"It says that she was last seen entering 2911 Ashland Street. Police searched the place, didn't find anything."

"Guess we gotta check it out ourselves. See if we can find her body." Christine concluded, taking the files from Sam so she could put the photos away.

"What?" Detective Ballard scoffed.

Sam cracked a smile, "Well, we gotta salt and burn her bones. It's the only way to put her spirit to rest."

Diana blinked, "Of course it is."

* * *

Christine decided to let Sam and Diana handle finding Claire's corpse. She wanted to head back to the station and see about getting Dean extradited to St. Louis.

"Hey Bobby," Christine answered her cell phone on the third ring. She was following a county vehicle she'd tracked to the edge of town.

"You doing okay, kid?" Bobby asked, taking a swig of whiskey from his glass. He'd been up half the night researching an ancient creature for another hunter named Garth.

Christine cracked a half smile, "Yeah, I just went to the station and they told me Officer Sheridan was personally taking Dean to St. Louis for arraignment on the murder charges." She sighed, "I just called Detective Ballard, Pete's partner to let her and Sam know."

Bobby felt his blood run cold, "Balls!" He exclaimed, "It's two AM!?" Then he leaned over the counter,"You better-"

"See what's up," Christine cut in. She sighed, "Yeah, I know." She lifted a pair of binoculars to her eyes, watching the county transport vehicle come to a halt at the stop sign ahead. It matched the plates of the vehicle Pete took Dean in. Bingo. "Bobby, I think Pete's our guy."

"Ya think?!" Bobby chided straightening up again, "Dean's in trouble alright," Then he surveyed the contents of his desk, time to wipe the slate clean again, "Well, let me know if I can do anything on my end." Another phone on the wall began to ring. "That's probably Garth, gotta go." Then the line went dead.

"Miss you too," Christine chuckled, dropping her phone in her jacket pocket. She maneuvered the Impala down a side street that ran parallel to the main road. The transport turned right and headed out of town. She followed at a comfortable distance, ready to make a move if necessary. The Impala wasn't just good for her looks, her speed was sometimes the difference between life and death. Pete pulled off into an opening in the forest along the road. As Christine pulled the Impala over, she noticed a vehicle behind her pulling over too. Sam's tall, slim form emerged and she felt herself relax, just a little. She drew her favorite ivory gripped pistol and crouched down beside the Impala to wait for Sam and Detective Ballard to catch up. They joined her, crouching down out of sight.

Through the trees Christine could see Pete open up the back doors of the vehicle. He pulled Dean out and pointed his gun at his head. "Balls!" She swore under her breath, "Time to go, kids" She murmured to Sam, pushing off the fender of the Impala. She jogged silently along the road, past the opening of the trees. She circled the area, coming around the front of the vehicle. Sam and Diana came straight at the back of the vehicle, weapons drawn.

"Pete! Put the gun down." Diana shouted, drawing Pete's attention away from Dean.

"Diana? How'd you find me?"

Diana gave him a hard look, "I know about Claire." She offered.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Pete shrugged her off.

"Put the gun down!" Diana shouted.

"Oh I don't think so," He scoffed, "Your fast," His eyes looked her up and down, "Pretty sure I'm faster."

"Why are you doing this?" Diana demanded, taking a step forward, lowering her gun just a little bit.

Pete turned his attention back to Dean who'd been shuffling slowly away, "I didn't do anything Diana." He sighed, cocking his gun. Dean froze.

"It's a little late for that." Diana scoffed, raising her gun again.

Detective Sheridan sighed, "It wasn't my fault." He stole a glance at Diana, keeping his gun trained on Dean's head. "Claire was trying to turn me in, I had no choice."

Diana took another step forward, "And Tony? Karen?" She asked.

"Same Thing!" Pete exclaimed, "Tony scrubbed the money, he go skittish, and then h e wanted to come clean." He shrugged, "I'm sure he told Karen everything." He swiped a hand through his hair, "It was a mess; I had to clean it up. I just panicked." He relaxed a little, his gun no longer trained on Dean's head.

Diana stepped forward again, "How many more people are gonna die over this, Pete?"

Detective Sheridan shook his head, "There's a way out, this Dean kid is a freakin' gift!" He barked a laugh, "We could pin this whole thing on him, right? No trial, no mess. Just one more dead scumbag."

Dean looked up at that, "Hey!" He protested. This time when Pete raised his gun, he cocked it. Dean backed off.

"No one will question it." Pete assured them, "Diana, please. I still love you." He pleaded.

Diana could see Christine creeping around the van. She was almost in position. Diana nodded and lowered her gun. Dean looked like he was going to poop his pants.

"Thank you." Pete murmured, "Thank you." He turned back to fire at Dean.

"You're welcome," Christine spat, stepping into view. She fired and hit Pete in the shoulder. He went down, and she dragged Dean out of the way, pinning him up again the side of the van, facing away from her.

"Hey Winchester," She grinned, picking the lock on his handcuffs.

"Hey yourself," Dean grinned back, wringing his wrists a little once they were free. Suddenly he was very sober, "Hey Chris, about the other day, I just want to say-"

"Can it, ass hat." She winked goodnaturedly, "We'll get outta this in one piece, then you can start finding your way outta the dog house."

Suddenly a second shot rang out. This time Detective Ballard put Pete down for good.

Christine pulled the Impala up to the clearing. She hopped out and jogged over to where Detective Ballard stood. "Thank you." Diana said.

"You're welcome…?" Christine answered.

Diana smirked, "It's not everyday you get your ass saved by a Lady Demon Hunter."

"Oh, yeah that." Christine chuckled. "Well, it's not everyday we get out of a bind as deep as this one." She sighed, "Thank you, Diana." She extended her hand.

"You're welcome." She shook Christine's hand a final time.

"All set?" Sam asked, Dean in tow. They procured Dean's personal effects from the van.

"Yeah," Diana answered, then she took a step back from the group. "I gotta call this in." She looked around the group for a beat, "You stay safe out there, keep doing what you're doing, ok?" She winked, then lifted the radio to her mouth.

"Here," Christine said to Dean, tossing him the Impala's keys.

"Awesome." Dean answered with a grin as he caught the keys. "Let's hit the road."

Sam, Dean and Christine climbed into the Impala and they did just that.

* * *

_From The Author's Desk…_

_**Vertigo - U2**__ \- this tune makes me smile. I also think of Christine's attitude during this whole episode, and it's pretty close to the tone of this song._

_I hope you enjoyed this episode and much as I did. I think it gives us a window into how the boys work together as a unit. I like to think Christine is a good addition to the team too…_

_Anyway, I hope you enjoy this time with your family and friends. I'll be writing this week, as work is horrendously slow, but I think there might be a stand alone holiday fic in the works...something Season 10 or 11ish...we'll see, no promises!_

_Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!_

_xoxo_

_Lumora The White_


	20. Shooting Star

**Long, Long Way From Home**

_Previously..._

_Christine pulled the Impala up to the clearing. She hopped out and jogged over to where Detective Ballard stood. __"Thank you." Diana said._

"_You__'__re welcome__…?" __Christine answered._

_Diana smirked, __"It__'__s not everyday you get your ass saved by a Lady Demon Hunter.__" _

"_Oh, yeah that.__" __Christine chuckled. __"__Well, it__'__s not everyday we get out of a bind as deep as this one.__" __She sighed, __"Thank you, Diana." __She extended her hand. _

"_You__'__re welcome.__" __She shook Christine__'__s hand a final time. _

"_All set?__" __Sam asked, Dean in tow. They procured Dean__'__s personal effects from the van. _

"_Yeah," __Diana answered, then she took a step back from the group. __"__I gotta call this in.__" __She looked around the group for a beat, __"__You stay safe out there, keep doing what you__'re doing, ok?__" __She winked, then lifted the radio to her mouth._

"_Here," __Christine said to Dean, tossing him the Impala__'__s keys. _

"_Awesome.__" __Dean answered with a grin as he caught the keys. __"Let__'__s hit the road.__" _

_Sam, Dean and Christine climbed into the Impala and they did just that._

* * *

**Chapter 20 : Shooting Star**

"Hold on there, Cowboy." Christine called to Dean as the trio unloaded at a rundown, roadside motel. Sam gave the pair a nod and continued inside the room, shouldering his duffle bag. The door clicked softly shut behind him.

Dean stopped and turned to face Christine, "What's the holdup?" He asked with a smirk. He took a few strides towards her. "We can get our own room if-"

"Why did you save it?" Christine asked, leveling her gaze with his. She leaned back against the driver's door of the Impala, her duffle bag resting on the hood.

Dean barked a laugh, "Save what, sweetheart?" He knew damn well what 'what' was. He set his duffle next to hers.

Christine sighed, "The napkin, Dean."

"Napkin, uh," He smirked, scrubbing the back of his neck with his open palm, "I save a lot of napkins, place 'em in Baby's glove box for emergencies, you'll, uh, have to be a bit more specific."

"Lipstick, chick's phone number." Christine elaborated, her tone turning deadly. She flicked her gaze back to his, then up to the fading sky.

Dean swallowed hard, "Oh, that napkin." He shrugged, "Honestly, I didn't really think much of it, happens all the time-"

"You didn't think much of it?!" Christine exploded, she threw a hand up in the air,"Aww, just happens all the time! Well!" Then she clamped her mouth shut, pressed her knuckles to her lips and let out a sigh "Dammit Winchester, maybe I will get my own room, no boys allowed." She said through clenched teeth, turning on her heel to grab her duffle bag.

Dean moved quickly, pinning her against the fender, still facing away from him. "Whoa! Easy, tiger!" He chided with shout. Then he leaned in closer, lips brushing the shell of her ear, "Wanna tell me why you thought so much of it?"

She released her grip on her bag and spun to face him. "You listen to me Dean Winchester, I'm only gonna say this once." Her chest heaved with the effort to control her emotions, she gripped the edges of his unzipped leather jacket."You mean a lot to me, and god dammit, it hurts to see women throw themselves at you and you eat it up like an eager puppy."

"Chris, I-" Dean started to say, hands out to his side in surrender.

"I'm not finished," She cut in, "I know using your charm is 'just part of the job,' and I get it." She pointed to her chest, "I do it, Sam does it, hell, we all do it..." She sighed, releasing his jacket. "I just won't tolerate it following us home."

Dean opened his mouth to cut her off, but then closed it when she said the word home. He felt a silly smile tug at his lips and relaxed his grip on her a little. "Home?" He quipped, cocking an eyebrow, leaning back to get a better view of her face.

Christine scoffed, "Yes, Winchester," She crossed her arms, "Home." She murmured and looked down at her scuffed biker boots, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

Dean chuckled. "I think I might need to get another room, or kick Sammy out for a few hours…" He winked, stepping back away from her. "After all, I think I still need to properly thank you for saving my ass." He held his arms out, inviting her into his embrace. It seemed staying angry at Dean was almost impossible.

"And don't you forget it, Winchester." Christine shot back with a grin, play punching his chest. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. Immediately, his entire body relaxed as his arms held her close. Talking about feelings wasn't his strong suit; Dean was a hugger. She saw plenty of arguments solved by Dean wrapping his brother up in a bear hug.

As if on cue, Sam emerged from the motel room, "Hey, I'm heading out for a beer, mind if I take the Impala?" He asked, holding out his hand for the keys.

"Actually," Christine said with a mischievous glint in her eye, "I think I'll join you. There's a bar I'd like to check out on the main road, just a couple of miles from here." She picked up her bag, "Let me change really quick, I'll be right back." With that, she disappeared into the motel room.

"Dean," Sam said, turning to his brother, "You coming with us?" He asked, watching Dean rifle through his duffle. He came up with a clean black t shirt.

"Hell yeah," Dean scoffed, walked towards the motel room. "I'm coming in!" He announced before pulling open the door. The main room was vacant, save for Christine's duffle bag laying open on the bed closest to the bathroom. He quickly pulled his shirt over his head and pulled the clean one on. As he was settling the material around his waist, the door to the bathroom squeaked open.

Christine emerged from the bathroom, clad in dark wash bootcut jeans that fit just right and a lacy black bra. She sashayed over to the bed and fished out a black sleeveless top, pulling it on. She shook out her hair from the clip she'd secured it in, helping the curls settle back into place. She walked back into the bathroom to fluff her hair, and then apply some lipstick; deep red, Dean's favorite.

Dean rolled his eyes. The sleeveless top didn't qualify as 'boobs in your face', it just showed off enough collarbone to be dangerous. Her red lipstick drove him crazy; the red hue paired with her white teeth gave his downstairs brain all sorts of naughty ideas. "Seriously," Dean quipped, crossing his arms over his chest.

"What?" Christine feigned innocence, giving the mirror a pretty pout, then catching eyes with him in the glass. She knew what this outfit did to him...so did the backseat of the Impala, that bathroom stall in Omaha, their seedy motel room last week...oh yeah, she knew exactly what it did to him.

Dean just snorted and headed for the motel room door. "Ready when you are, sweetheart." He called over his shoulder, just before the door clicked shut.

Christine smiled at her reflection in the mirror. "Oh, I'm ready baby." She murmured, "The question is, are you ready, Winchester?" She grabbed her leather jacket from the chair by the door and shrugged it on. One last fluff to her hair and she joined the boys at the Impala.

Dean felt his jeans tighten at just the sight of her. Her hair was blown out to perfection, framing her face flawlessly. "Son of a Bitch," He swore, watching Christine climb into the Impala. As soon as her door clicked shut, he put Baby into gear and peeled out of the parking lot. If he didn't keep his temper in check, they were going to have a whole new mess on their hands.

* * *

The bar proved to be more of a hole in the wall than Dean originally thought. Christine had a knack for choosing places with deep pulsing bass, flashing lights and fog machines. Sam didn't seem to mind the change of scenery; places like that made Dean's teeth itch. Something about the mysterious atmosphere and major overkill on black drapes and techno music made his skin crawl. He piloted the Impala into a parking space and got out, stepping back to pull open Christine's door. She looked surprised, but amused at his show of chivalry. Just before they entered the bar, he pulled her close, lips ghosting over the shell of her ear. "Just remember who's taking you home, sweetheart." He drawled, then released her, watching her walk away straight for the bar.

Sam was already nursing a beer when a little lady cozied up to his side. He didn't seemed to mind the woman's forwardness. He and Dean exchanged a look that said they'd be fighting over the motel room tonight. They all needed to blow off a little steam. Christine flirted with the bartender, just to make Dean squirm. She ordered a drink and let herself laugh at his corny jokes. The last chords of 'Have You Ever Seen The Rain,' by CCR faded away and the bar patrons hooted and hollered. Instead of a DJ, the bar had a live band.

"Christine Elliott?!" The cry came from the stage where the band had taken a break.

Christine gave the bartender a wink before swiping her glass off the bar and turning to see who in the world had called her name out across the room. Lewis Stanton, an occasional hunting partner and ex band mate, stood on the edge of the stage. Dark unruly hair, swept up away from his face, like he'd been running his hands through it, revealing his steady gaze. His lips broke into a wry grin when their eyes met. Christine giggled. She'd almost kissed Lewis a few times, he was quite the charmer. She pushed off the bar and made her way across the dance floor.

"Lewis Stanton." Christine said, once she'd reached the stage.

"In the flesh, love." He drawled, jumping down from the stage. He snatched her hand and bowed grandly, pressing a lingering kiss to her knuckles.

Christine blushed, shaking her head. Once he stood up, she flung herself into his arms and squeezed him tight. "I can't believe you're here!" She exclaimed pulling away just slightly.

Lewis laughed, "I haven't seen you in at least, what." He pursed his lips together, "Two years." He sighed, "You're even more ravishing than I remember." He stepped closer to her.

"There you are, sweetheart." Dean's voice jarred her back to reality as he stepped up to the reunited pair. He put his arm around Christine's waist, "Who's this?" He asked with a cheeky grin.

Christine felt her cheeks flame. "Lewis Stanton," She sighed, motioning between the two men, "Dean Winchester. Dean Winchester, Lewis Stanton."

Lewis' eyes widened in shock. Dean Winchester? The Dean Winchester? He knew Christine grew up having play dates with the Winchesters at Bobby's house, but to see him so familiar with Christine was quite alarming. John Winchester had quite the reputation, word had it his son didn't fall too far from the tree. Dean extended his hand, which Lewis took only to save appearances.

Dean smiled easily, "This your band?" He asked, giving the other guitarist a nod.

"Uh, yeah." Lewis answered, clearing his throat. "We've been together almost as long as EATBC." He crossed his arms over his chest, asserting his alpha male status. "I was a founding member until I couldn't take Joel's antics anymore."

"Yeah, he's a real piece of work." Dean said, barely keeping his temper in check. He didn't want to ruffle any more of Chris' feathers. Lewis's statement definitely implied he was one of the suitors Joel ran off Chris' trail.

"Well give it a few weeks," Christine huffed with a wave of her hand, "We broke up."

"What?!" Lewis started, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline. "Why ever would you give up music, Christine?"

Christine sighed, "I didn't give up music," She looked into Lewis' concerned eyes, "I wanted to live a life of adventure and keeping a gig schedule really put a damper on things." She gave Lewis her best pout.

He sighed, "Yeah, it does that." He chuckled a little. "Not to mention tall, dirty blonde and handsome here." He murmured, jabbing her playingfully in the ribs with his elbow. Dean pretended not to hear and took a swig from his beer, releasing his grip on Christine. Lewis exchanged a look with his bass player, "Hey," He put his hands on Christine's shoulders. "What do you say to doing a couple of songs with us, eh?"

Christine's eyes widened in shock. "What, really?" She gasped. "What do you want me to sing?"

Lewis stepped back, "Well, for starters we could do a Leppard tune." He smirked, "Maybe, _Two Steps Behind_?"

Christine nodded, "Sure, then we could do _Dreams_?" She bit her lip. Lewis used to tease her for her Fleetwood Mac obsession. Anyone with ears knew Stevie Nicks was a master.

"Dreams, too." Lewis agreed with a grin. "Take a look at the set list. I'll be right back sugar," He gave her a wink then disappeared in the crowd towards the bar.

Dean tried to take a deep breath, but his temper got the better of him, "Never been kissed, eh?" Dean spat before he could stop himself. "C'mon Chris, I'm no fool-"

"Dean," Christine groaned, "What part of 'Joel Lane is a jackass', do you not understand?" She heaved a sigh, putting her arms around Dean's neck, despite his resistance. "Look Dean, Lewis is a great guy, something might of happened," Dean started to nod, like he just knew she wasn't as innocent as she claimed, "But I'm glad it didn't." She confessed, leaning a little closer. Her voice dropped a little, "I'm glad I'm a one man woman," She smiled softly, "Pretty special, considering this rough life we live and all." She released her grip, and knocked back the rest of her glass. She gave him a wink before disappearing into the crowd, the same direction Lewis went.

Dean blinked. He expected her to finally own up to at least being kissed. From the way Lewis looked at her, he would have bet the Impala they'd at least made it to second base. "Son of a bitch," He swore softly, unable to help the silly smile that tugged at his lips. Christine Elliott was a one man woman. Hell yeah, that was freakin' special. For once in his miserable life, he happened to be the lucky bastard he was usually jealous of.

* * *

Lewis's band was comically named, The Stand-ups. Before they started their second set, Lewis brought Christine over to meet the band. "Hey guys, this is Christine Elliott." He introduced her, "I'd like for her to join us on a couple of tunes in the next set."

Christine cleared her throat, studying the setlist Lewis' handed her, "I think I can lead Two Steps Behind, let's keep it electric, just like you usually do." She locked eyes with the bassist, "I'd like to do a more metal version of 'Hate Myself,' you guys do it a little honky tonk, right?"

"Hell yeah," The Bassist threw up a rawk fist. "Joan Jett is a total badass." He leaned forward a little. "So are you, little lady." He gave her a wink. "I saw your band up at the Roadhouse last fall."

"Alright," Christine gave him a high five, sort of embarrassed that he remembered her and seemed to think she was some great musician. She squared her shoulders, "Let's do this."

Lewis turned to the crowd, adjusting his microphone. "Hey ya'll. We're back." The crowed cheered a little, "I've got a special surprise for you. My good friend, Christine Elliott has dropped by." Christine stepped forward, a few men let loose some cat call like whistles. "She's one hell of a woman, with some mad vocal skill. I'm so glad I've convinced her to join our little group for our second set."

"Thanks, Lu." She purred into the microphone. "How ya'll feeling tonight?" She addressed the crowd, nodding to the band, asking them to kick the first song off. The crowd cheered and she smiled, "It's a treat to be back on the stage." She winked at Dean, who'd settled on a barstool. "So get this," She continued to speak, "I've got this guy who's a real charmer, always picking up chicks phone numbers, real nightmare in the romance department," She winked earning a chuckle from the crowd, "Any ladies know what I'm talking about?"

A woman shouted, "Hell yeah!" from her seat at the bar, earning a round of applause from the crowd.

Christine chuckled, "Alright, well, this one's for you."

**_Midnight gettin' uptight where are you?_**

**_You said you'd meet me now it's quarter to two_**

**_I know I'm hangin' but I'm still wantin' you_**

**_Hey Jack it's a fact they're talkin' in town_**

**_I turn my back and you're messin' around_**

**_I'm not getting jealous don't I like lookin' like a clown_**

**_I think of you every night and day_**

_**You took my heart then you took my pride away**_

For the chorus, Christine locked eyes with Dean for just a moment, then she cuddled up next to Lewis, putting on quite a show.

**_I hate myself for loving you_**

**_Can't break free from the the things that you do_**

**_I wanna walk but I run back to you that's why_**

**_I hate myself for loving you_**

Dean wasn't surprised by the song choice, hell, he wasn't surprised at the little show she was putting on with another infernal guitar player. He was, however, surprised at his confidence. It gave his ego a little boost that she was going to such lengths to express her jealousy. Of course he knew keeping that napkin wouldn't end well. He just didn't care. Christine needed to understand that this life was rough, dangerous, dirty and unfair. He wasn't a big softie who she could expect romantic gestures from. He loved fiercely, but he didn't love easy. People he loved got hurt, or worse, they were killed. In the end, they all left him, one way or another. Still, He couldn't ignore the fact that Christine stuck around, even after ten years apart, they were still thick as thieves. He sighed, downing his glass, signaling for a refill.

"Hey there, handsome." A voice broke into his reverie. He turned to take in a blonde bombshell that would have made him choke if he hadn't just swallowed his drink. "Wanna dance?" She purred, sliding up into his personal space.

Dean opened his mouth to shoot back some well rehearsed line about not being the dancing type but was cut off by the sudden flood of memories. Christine. Pulled close, her body moving against his, her hips swaying to the beat, her hands guiding his hips to match her own. He let out a breath, "That's a nice offer, sweetheart, but…" He trailed off, directing his gaze to the stage. Christine was finishing the song with a fantastic rebel yell.

"Seriously?" The blonde scoffed, following his gaze. "Looks like she's got Lewis wrapped around her little finger." She laughed, spilling her drink a little. "Oh, oopsy!" She exclaimed with a giggle.

Dean rolled his eyes. How did he ever find this train wreck in front of him attractive? "Yeah, looks can be deceiving, darlin'." He drawled, taking a sip of his drink, pointedly giving her a 'once over' with his eyes. The blonde scoffed, picked up her drink and sashayed away.

The audience responded well; the dance floor filled up nicely. Dean still sat with his back to the bar on his chosen barstool, eyes smoldering in the dimness of the room. Christine knew she'd pushed a little too far. Frankly, she didn't care. It was time Dean realized she was all in, and if he wasn't, then they were going to have to have a serious talk.

Lewis started the first chords to Ramble On by Led Zeppelin and Christine narrowed her eyes at the sight at the bar. A blonde bimbo had cozied up to Dean, her cleavage on display for the whole town to witness. She almost missed her entrance when she saw the blonde walk away, Dean's eyes staying towards the stage. Who knows, maybe Hell had frozen over...

The band played a few more songs, Christine steady at the helm. She stole glances at Dean from time to time, all the while, the hunter remained alone. They played Two Steps Behind by Def Leppard, Dreams by Fleetwood Mac, and finally Long, Long Way From Home by Foreigner. Christine took a bow and settled her microphone back on its stand. She gave Lewis a kiss on the cheek before hopping down from the stage to join Dean at the bar.

"This seat taken?" She purred, sliding onto the stool beside him. The band began to play, Hysteria by Def Leppard.

"This one's for all you lovebirds out there." Lewis said with a wink.

"It is now," Dean smirked, watching her fidget under his heated gaze. She flagged down the bartender.

"Jager, three shots, straight up." Christine ordered, "And a water, lemon twist." She set a couple of twenties down on the bar. The bartender quickly filled her order. "Thanks." She downed the first shot.

"You really like that stuff?" Dean inquired, nodding at the bartender who shook his head a little.

Christine sighed, bowing her head a little against the burn, "My dad drank the stuff, straight out of the bottle. Claimed it was better than whiskey. He used to keep it in the back of the fridge." She wiped at her mouth a little.

"How do you know that?" Dean asked, imagining her sneaking the stuff as a kid.

"Bobby." She downed the second shot. "He said it was why he kept his in the back of the fridge." She giggled a little, "Since Dad passed when I was nine, I never actually saw him drink it." She sighed, "Joel actually tried to get me drunk on whiskey once, even tried to put-"

"The moves on you?" Dean scoffed with a grin. "No way…" He teased, taking a swig of beer. He sighed, "Explains why you don't care for the stuff…"

Christine smiled, "Whiskey, or 'the moves'?" She teased, making air quotes. Dean just shook his head. The band reached the instrumental interlude of the song and she found herself itching to get out on the dance floor. Downing her last shot she stood up, "Care to dance, cowboy?" She gave Dean a wink.

Dean set his now empty beer bottle down on the bar. He swiveled to face the dance floor and stage. Lewis was crooning into the microphone, his eyes trained on Christine. Dean stood up and offered Chris his hand. "Alright, princess." He relented, she took his hand. They worked their way to the dance floor and Dean pulled her close. They danced for a while, Christine resting her head in the crook of his neck.

The band concluded their set and began packing up. Lewis offered her a simple wave before placing his guitar in its case. Dean caught the exchange. "Go on, I'll get Baby warmed up." He told her, releasing his hands from her waist. Christine leaned up and gave him a soft kiss.

"Thanks, Dean." She murmured. He left the bar, and she headed towards the stage.

"There she is!" The bassist exclaimed, offering his hand for a high five. "Awesome job, sweetheart."

"Thanks," Christine blushed, giving him a high five. "I'd love to do it again sometime."

"And we'd be glad to have you." He answered with a smile.

"I'll say," Lewis drawled, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, he exchanged a look with the bassist. "Can I steal you for a minute?" He asked, steering her away from the group. He pulled her out the door into the cool night air. Before she could register what was happening, he shoved her up against the rough exterior wall and claimed her mouth in a deep kiss. She responded for a moments before reality came crashing down around her. He released her mouth, "Better than I imagined." He murmured, his fingers playing in her curls.

"Lewis," Christine breathed, her voice shaky. "I don't think this is-"

"Appropriate?" He offered, his lips flaring into a wry grin. "I suppose not...you seem... quite attached to tall, dirty blonde and handsome."

"You could say that…" She murmured, slipping out from under his grasp. "You're a great guy Lewis, really." She sighed, "I'm just-"

"In over my head with Dean Winchester?!" Lewis finished for her. "Yeah," He chuckled.

Christine just shook her head, biting her lip.

"Awww, Chris." Lewis sighed. "You know I love you. You're the one that got away." He closed his eyes, shaking his head a little, "I guess I had to try just one last time. I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Christine protested. "I'm flattered." She winked, earning a smile from Lewis. He opened his mouth, but before he could give her the lecture she knew as coming she simply said, "Don't." She shook her head a little. "I've made my choice." She sighed, looking at her hands for a moment. "Dean is a little rough around the edges-"

"Huh, a little?" Lewis huffed.

Christine glared at him, "Yeah, a little, just like you." She poked him playfully in the chest. "He is also the bravest, most loyal man I have ever met."

He placed his hands on her shoulders, looking her square in the eye. "Be careful, Christine Elliott." He pleaded with her, "You're an incredible singer, and a wonderful woman. I'm glad we had the chance to reconnect, even if it's not a sweet as I imagined it." He gave her a wink.

Christine rolled her eyes, play punching him the shoulder. "Thank you for allowing me to get on stage and spread my wings again, Lewis." She fished out a business card from her jacket, "Here's my card, that number is Bobby's house. My mobile is on the back."

"Agent Ellis, clever." He scoffed, then flipped the card over. The Impala pulled to a stop beside them. Dean probably saw the whole exchange.

"See ya around, Lewis." Christine held out her hand.

Lewis took her hand, then pulled it up to his mouth, kissing her knuckles like he had when they first met tonight. "Agent," He winked and released her hand.

Christine climbed into the front seat of the Impala, Sam had gone home for the night with a little honey from the bar. She waved at Lewis as they pulled away.

* * *

Oddly enough, Dean wasn't upset. He had seen the entire exchange, kiss and all, and he wasn't the least bit upset. In fact, he was proud. Some man had put the moves on his woman, and she was still coming home with him.

"Son of a Bitch." Dean swore softly as they peeled out of the parking lot.

Christine swiveled in her seat a little, resting her back against the passenger door. "What?" She asked, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"Nothing," He smirked.

"Hmmm." Christine answered. "Now you're swearing for nothing, what ever will I do?" She teased.

Dean sighed, "Casanova tried his best, but I'm the lucky bastard going home with the dame." He barked a laugh.

"Get used to it, Winchester." Christine murmured. "I don't foresee going home with anyone else ever again."

"That so?" Dean teased, he put Baby into park.

"If you'll have me." She turned to look at him.

"Oh I'll have you alright," Dean drawled, sliding out of the Impala. He went straight to the motel room door. She joined him at the door. Once he got the door open, he yanked her inside, slammed the door and pushed her up against it. "Maybe I'll have you against the door, or across that table." His grip on her biceps tightened. "I'll have you wherever and whenever I damn well please." He growled in her ear before claiming her mouth in a searing kiss.

* * *

_From The Author__'__s Desk…_

_**Shooting Star - Bad Company - **__This is a great track to accompany any rockstar dreams. It describes Christine__'__s and Lewis__' __personal dream of being a touring musician, and the struggle to keep a normal life. _

_**Lewis Stanton** \- Okay, so I have a confession to make...I've discovered a new show, eh, bit of a paradox really. I'm in deep with another CW show...The Originals. I haven't seen The Vampire Diaries, but I really enjoy The Originals. I picture him to be Daniel Gillies who plays, Elijah Mikaelson. Daniel is quite yummy, just like our beloved Jensen Ackles. Plus I have really fallen for Elijah. I think I just watch the show to see what happens with his character at this point. _

_I__'__ve been on bit of a hiatus...I just got a big promotion at work, and things at the hotel are picking up after the holiday season lull. _

_I__'m sure I'__ll be writing in the days and weeks to come, but it looks like new chapters may be a monthly thing instead of a weekly thing__…_

_Thanks for sticking with this fic this far. You rock!_

_xoxo_

_Lumora the White_


End file.
